END 


• 


ALVMNVS  BOOK  FYND 


STOR 


SAM  LovEus  CAMPS 


UNCLE   LISHA'S   FRIENDS 
UNDER   BARK   AND   CANVAS. 


A  SEQUEL  TO  UNCLE  LISHA'S  SHOP 


BY 

ROWLAND     E.    ROBINSON 


NEW  YORK: 
FOREST    AND    STREAM    PUBLISHING    CO. 

1889. 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  FOREST  AND  STREAM  PUBLISHING  CO. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


TO 

MY    WIFE 

THIS    BOOK    IS    AFFECTIONATELY 
INSCRIBED. 


U6863 


AN   EXPLANATORY   NOTE. 

THE  Yankee  is  everywhere,  and  everywhere  is  heard  his  nasal  drawl  asking  a 
question  or  answering  one.  But  it  is  a  sign  that  the  manner  of  his  speech  is 
changing  that  to  some  readers  of  "  Uncle  Lisha's  Shop"  who  are  unacquainted 
with  a  dialect  once  common  in  Vermont,  and  as  yet  by  no  means  uncommon  in 
portions  of  the  State,  the  meaning  of  some  words  and  phrases  used  by  the  old 
cobbler  and  his  neighbors  has  not  been  clear.  For  the  benefit  of  such  readers 
of  this  volume  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  explain  at  the  outset  some  forms  of  speech 
that  are  least  likely  to  be  understood  by  them. 

"  Julluk"  is  a  shortening  of  just  like  ;  "god  daown,"  "pud  daown,"  "led 
daown,M  "  sod  daown,"  and  the  like,  are  got  down,  put  down,  let  down,  sat 
down,  with  the  last  letter  of  the  first  word  changed  to  d.  "  Luftu"  and  "  lufted 
tu  "  are  queer  corruptions  of  love  to  and  loved  to.  "Callate,"  sometimes 
"  carc'late,"  is  to  iniend  or  plan,  not  to  compute.  When  a  thing  is  sold  it  is 
"sol'."  The  "heft"  of  a  thing  is  its  weight  and  also  the  greater  part  of  it, 
and  to  "heft  it"  is  to  try  its  weight  by  lifting.  The  word  hold  occurs  in 
different  forms  in  one  sentence,  when  you  are  bidden  to  "  take  a  holt  an1  hoi' 
on."  "  Hayth  "  means  height,  the  "  hayth  o' land,"  the  highest  land  in  a 
certain  section  of  country  ;  the  term  was  often  applied  in  former  times  to  the 
Green  Mountain  range.  Creature  has  slight  differences  of  pronunciation  ac 
cording  to  its  application.  A  very  poor  or  wretched  person  is  a  "  poor,  mis'able 
creetur,"  a  wild  blade,  a  "  tarnal  critti'.r,"  a  bad  man,  a  "  weeked  crittur"  ; 
and  a  bull,  when  not  a  "  toro,"  is  as  politely  called  a  "cruttur,"  the  "tts" 
scarcely  sounded.  "  Mongst  'em  "  signifies  other  persons  beside  the  one  or 
more  named;  as,  "John  Doe  an'  mongst  'em."  To  "shool"  is  to  wander 
aimlessly;  to  "  flurrup "  to  move  in  a  lively,  erratic  manner.  A  "heater 
piece  "  is  a  triangular  piece  of  land,  shaped  like  a  heater  or  flat-iron.  The 
"  square  room  "  is  the  best  room  or  parlor.  A  "  linter"  is  a  lean-to,  a  single- 
roofed  building  set  against  a  larger  one. 

When  a  Yankee  "  dums"  or  "  darns  "  persons  or  things,  he  is  not  to  be  un 
derstood  as  cursing  them  ;  church  members  in  good  standing  do  so  without 
scandal  as  they  mildly  swear  "  by  gosh"  and  "  by  gum"  and  "swan,"  "  swow," 
"snum,"  "snore"  and  "  vum." 

The  Canadian  who  learns  English  of  the  Yankee  often  outdoes  his  teacher 
in  that  twisting  of  the  vowels  which,  no  doubt  brought  over  in  the  Mayflower, 
became  so  marked  a  characteristic  of  New  England  speech.  Some  words  are 
very  difficult  for  him  to  master,  but  finally  he  gets  the  better  of  most,  and  no 
longer  says  "  jimrubbit  "  for  India-rubber,  or  "  nowse  "  for  noise.  But  stove  is 
his. shibboleth.  To  the  day  of  his  death  he  calls  it  "  stofe,"  and  the  genera 
tion  that  follows  him  can  speak  it  no  otherwise. 

ROWLAND  E.  ROBINSON. 

FERRISBURGH,  VT.,  January,  1889. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  CAMP   ON    THE    SLANG. 

CHAPTER 

I.  UNDER  THE  HEMLOCKS,   ....,••     8 

II.  THE   PASSING  OF  WINTER,  •      15 

III.  NEWS  FROM  DANVIS,  .     .  •    23 

IV.  COLD  WATER  QUENCHES  VALOR,  35 
V.  SHOOTING  PickEREL, •     •   43 

VI.  ANTOINE'S  REDOUBTABLE  VICTORY,  55 

VII.  PELATIAH    GOES   VISITING,       .     . 

VIII.  SPEARING   BY   JACKLIGHT,  . 

IX.  BREAKING  CAMP,      .  -  89 

X.  A  LETTER  FROM  UNCLE  LISHA,  .     96 

XI.  THE  HOME  RECEPTION, -02 


THE    CAMP    ON    THE    LAKE. 

I.  THE  VOYAGE  DOWN  THE  LITTLE  OTTER,  107 

II.  JOSEPH  HILL  GOES  FISHING,  .     .  125 

III.  EXPLORATIONS,  .     .     . 

IV.  A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  IN  ANTOINE'S  PRIZE,    139 


V1  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

V.    THE  COOK  FURTHER  DISTINGUISHES  HIM 
SELF,  I45 

VI.    PELATIAH'S  LIFE  IN  THE  LOWLANDS,     .     .157 

VII.    CANADIANS  ON  THE  SLANG, 172 

VIII.    THE  TREASURE  DIGGERS, 183 

IX.    RECONCILIATION, jo6 

X.    SEINING, *..'..          .  201 

XI.     SUNGAHNEE-TUK, 2l6 

XII.    BREAKING   CAMP, 228 

XIII.  AT  THE  FORGE  VILLAGE,  234 

XIV.  REST, '  .  24J 

XV.    NEW  LIFE  IN   THE  OLD  HOME,  ....  249 


SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

ON -THE   SLANG. 


UNDER   THE    HEMLOCKS. 

BESIDE  a  low-banked  water-way  among  the  reddish-gray 
trunks  of  great  hemlocks,  there  stood,  one  day  in  the  third 
month  of  a  year,  half  a  long  lifetime  ago,  a  shanly  of  freshly 
riven  slabs  with  the  upper  ends  slanted  together  in  the  form 
of  an  A  tent.  In  front  of  it  a  fire  smouldered,  the  slow 
smoke  climbing  through  the  branches  that  waved  their  green 
spray  and  nodded  their  slender-stemmed  cones  in  the  rising 
current  of  warm  vapor.  A  few  muskrat  skins,  stretched 
on  osier  bows,  hung  drying  near  by  on  slim  poles  placed 
in  the  crotches  of  stakes,  and  two  canoes,  one  a  light 
birch,  the  other  a  dugout,  lay  bottom  upward  on  the  bank 
awaiting  the  day  of  use.  The  shanty  was  luxuriously  bed 
ded  with  marsh  hay  and  fragrant  twigs  of  hemlock,  overlaid 
with  blankets  and  buffalo  skins,  and  stretching  out  into  the 
light  were  two  pairs  of  feet,  one  clad  in  stout  boots,  the 
other  in  moccasins.  Four  legs  faded  away  in  the  dusky 
interior,  till,  beyond  the  knees,  the.  eye  was  puzzled  to  fol 
low  them. 


8  tl     cc  c"  SAM  LO  PEL'S   CAMPS. 


Presently  the  boots  began  ^tV  stir  and  then  the  owner  be 
came  dimly  visible  sitting  up  on  his  couch.  When  he  had 
crawled  out  and  scraped  a  coal  from  the  ashes  into  his 
pipe,  and  having  got  it  satisfactorily  alight,  stood  up  and 
looked  at  the  cloud-flecked  sky  and  out  on  the  ice-bound 
stream,  the  tall,  wiry  form,  and  quiet,  good-humored, 
bearded  and  weather-browned  face  of  Sam  Lovel  were  fully 
revealed.  He  half  turned  toward  the  shanty,  and  lightly 
touched  one  of  the  moccasins  with  his  foot.  "  Hello, 
Antwine  !"  he  called,  "  be  ye  goin'  to  sleep  all  day  ?" 

The  moccasins  moved  a  little,  and  a  sleepy  voice  in  be 
yond  said  :  "  Hein  ?  What  was  be  de  matter?" 

"  Git  up  an'  light  yer  pipe,  an'  then  le's  go  an'  see  ye 
spear  a  mushrat  as  you've  ben  tellin'  on.  Come  I"  and 
Sam  vigorously  poked  the  moccasins  till  they  were  drawn 
into  shadow,  then  reappeared,  and  Antoine  Basette  came 
hitching  after  them  into  the  light  and  sat  rubbing  his  eyes 
as  he  said  :  "  Bah  gosh  !  Sam,  Ah  dunno  'f  Ah  won't  keel 
you,  Ah  dunno  'f  Ah  an't  !  You  spile  'em  up  de  bes' 
dream  Ah  never  smell  all  ma  laf  tarn*  !  Onion  bilin'  in 
keetly,  patack  roast  in  ashins,  bull  pawt  fryin'  in  paan, 
moosrat  toast  on  coal  !  Oh  !  bah  gosh  !  jes'  Ah  tryin' 
mek  off  ma  min'  de  fus'  one  Ah'  11  heat  nex',  you'll  hol- 
leh  '  Aantwine  !  '  an'  dey  all  gone  off.  Ah'  11  pooty  mad, 
me  !"  and  he  shook  his  head  and  smote  his  fists  above  it  ; 
but  the  broad  grin  that  followed  gave  the  lie  to  these  angry 
demonstrations. 

"  Wai,  I  swan,  it  is  too  bad,  Antwine,  seein'  't  we  hain't 
hed  nothin'  so  fur  but  pork  an'  dry  bread.  But  we'll 
makeup  for't  bimeby.  Lemme  see;  your  onion  smell 

*  This  is  Canuck  for  time. 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

must  ha'  ben  the  skunk  't  ye  ketched  in  yermink  trap  las' 
night.  The  pertater  smell  I  d'knovv  where  ye  got,  erless 
'twas  a  last  year's  one.  The  bull  paout  smell  is  in  the 
futur',  an'  the  mushrat  smell  is  consid'able  present,  but 
not  's  much  's  I  wish  'twas.  But  light  yer  pipe  an'  git 
yer  mushrat  prod,  an'  le's  go  an'  see  ye  use  it,"  and  Sam 
sang  from  the  ballad  of  "  Brave  Wolf "  these  encouraging 
lines  : 

"  Chee-er  up  your  hearts,  young  men, 

Let  naw-thing  fright  you  ; 
Be  a—  w — v  a  galliant  mind, 

Let  tha-a-at  delight  you  !" 

So  the  Canadian  got  his  black  pipe  ablast,  and  taking  a 
one-tined  spear  and  an  axe  from  the  shanty,  announced  his 
readiness  to  start. 

They  went  out  through  the  sere  rushes,  flags  and  sedges 
that  lay  lopped  by  the  winds  and  snows  of  many  a  winter 
storm,  over  the  frozen  marsh,  to  where  the  channel  of  the 
"  Slang"  wound  clearly  denned  under  the  snow  and  ice, 
like  the  street  of  an  aboriginal  village,  with  here  and  there 
set  beside  it  the  huts  of  the  muskrats.  Away  from  the  un- 
wooded  eastern  bank  stretched  the  wide,  flat  fields  of  the 
Champlain  Valley,  yet  dazzling  white  with  the  slowly  melt 
ing  snows  of  the  persistent  northern  winter,  though  in 
places  the  pall  was  rent  where  the  knolls  and  southerly 
banks  of  the  tawny  earth  had  come  to  the  surface  again, 
and  zigzag  lines  of  fences  cropped  out  above  the  drifts.  A 
mile  back  the  gray  and  dark  green  hills  arose,  and  along 
the  eastern  horizon  ran  the  hazy  wall  of  the  Green  Moun 
tains,  topped  with  the  shining  towers  of  Mansfield  and 
Gamers  Hump.  Westward  from  the  standpoint  of  Sam 
and  his  companion  an  uninterrupted  forest  of  hemlocks 


io  SAM  LOVEVS    CAMPS. 

and  tall  pines  seemed  to  reach  to  where  the  Adirondacks' 
scarred  steeps  gleamed  through  their  veil  of  haze.  Over 
the  landscape  bent  a  warm-tinted  sky  with  fleeces  of  white 
cloud  drifting  slowly  across  it  before  a  gentle  southern 
breeze.  The  tempered  air,  a  tinge  of  purple  in  the  gray 
of  the  water  maples'  spray,  the  caw  of  returning  crows,  and 
the  long  resonant  roll  of  the  woodpeckers'  drum-beat  gave 
unmistakable  signs  of  the  coming  of  spring — yet  many 
days  off,  but  surely  coming. 

The  fall  after  Uncle  Lisha's  departure  to  his  new  home 
in  the  West,  Sarn  had  taken  the  old  man's  advice  into  se 
rious  consideration,  and  finally  for  various  reasons  conclud 
ing  to  follow  it,  he  bargained  for  the  making  of  a  lot  of 
traps  and  took  Antoine  as  partner  and  instructor  as  well, 
for  Sam  had  not  much  experience  in  trapping  muskrats, 
those  fur-bearers  being  not  at  all  plenty  in  the  rapid, 
weedless  streams  of  the  hill  country,  where  all  his  hunting 
and  trapping  had  until  now  been  done.  Long  before 
sleighing  gave  any  sign  of  failing  they  had  their  boats,  traps, 
and  provisions  hauled  down  to  the  trapping  ground,  built 
their  rude  but  cosy  shelter  that  was  for  some  weeks  to  be 
their  home,  and  were  now  waiting  for  the  opening  of 
small-craft  navigation,  when  they  would  begin  trapping  in 
earnest.  They  had  set  a  few  traps  in  the  muskrat  houses, 
chopping  out  a  small  opening  to  the  bed,  whereon  the  trap 
was  set,  and  the  covering  carefully  replaced.  From  the 
houses  so  taken  possession  of  rose  the  tally  sticks,  to  which 
the  trap  chains  were  fastened,  like  miniature  flagstaffs.  To 
one  not  so  marked  Antoine  now  led  the  way.  "  Go  steel 
naow,  Sam,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice  as  they  drew  near  it  : 
"  not  mek  it  no  more  nowse  as  leetly  mouses.  Naow. 
Ah  m's  goin'  stroke  it  raght  in  dar  !"  and  carefully  laying 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  II 

down  his  axe,  he  drove  the  spear  into  the  centre  of  the  rough 
cone  of  flags,  mud,  and  sedges,  a  little  below  the  top  and 
on  the  south  side. 

"  Dah,  seh,  Sam,  ant  Ah  tol'  you?  Ah' 11  gat  she! 
Ah' 11  feel  of  it  heeni  weegle  !  Ant  you'll  see  ?"  cried  the 
delighted  Frenchman,  and  when  he  quit  his  hold  on  the 
spear  staff  Sam  saw  that  it  was  violently  shaken.  Antoine 
now  chopped  into  the  house  and  took  out  a  muskrat  writh 
ing  in  agony  and  biting  at  the  cruel  spear  that  impaled 
him.  The  half-savage  Canuck  was  in  no  haste  to  despatch 
him,  but  Sam  dealt  the  poor  brute  a  kick  in  the  head  that 
ended  his  misery  at  once. 

"  What  for  you  do  dat,  Sam  ?  You  wait  mineet  you 
see  dat  leetly  dev'  faght  lak  a  coss  !  Have  it  some  funs  !" 

"  There,  Antwine,"  said  Sam,  with  an  expression  of 
strong  disgust  upon  his  face,  "  you  needn't  prod  no  more 
on  'em  on  my  'caount." 

"  Hein  ?"  cried  Antoine  in  astonishment,  "what  for 
Ah  don't,  Sam  ?'' 

"  Wai,  it's  too  durn'd  savage.  The's  too  much  Injin 
'baout  that  for  me.  " 

"Ant  you  want  it  moosrat  ?  Don't  dat  goode  way  git 
heem,  an't  it?  Ah' 11  git  forty,  prob'ly  twenty  so,  in  one 
day  !  You  s'pose  he  an't  lak  it  jus'  well  as  be  ketch  in 
Iraap,  hein  ?  Pool  off  his  laig  all  day,  bambye  heat  him 
off,  den  '  goo'  by,  Sam, '  he  say  !  He  feel  bad,  you  feel 
bad,  ant  de  bose  of  it  no  good,  an't  it  ?  Bah  gosh,  Sam, 
you'll  got  foolish  motion  in  you'  head,  seh  !" 

"Wai,  I  s'pose  I  hev,  but  I  can't  help  it.  I  know 
trappin*  is  onhuman  business  the  best  way  you  c'n  fix  it, 
a-ketchin'  critters  by  the'  laigs  an'  lettin'  on  'em  surfer, 
but  the'  don't  seem  no  other  way  o'  gittin'  some  on  'em. 


12  SAM   LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

A  deadfall,  'at  knocks  the  life  aout  on  'em  fust  dab,  is  the 
only  human  trap  the'  is,  but  they  hain't  wuth  shucks  for 
mushrat.  But  when  you  come  to  set  for  mushrat  in  the 
water,  theydraound  quick  an'  I  guess  don't  mind  it  much, 
bein'  they're  so  uster  the  water.  We'll  wait  a  spell  an' 
git  'em  that  way." 

Further  discussion  was  stopped  by  the  shouts  of  a  man 
who  was  coming  toward  them  over  the  ice  at  the  top  of 
his  speed. 

"  Hello  there  !  What  in  thunder  ye  duin'  on?"  and 
as  he  came  up  to  them,  breathless  with  unwonted  haste — 
for  he  was  short  and  fat,  built,  as  Sam  thought,  more  for 
sitting  than  running — he  panted  out  gustily:  "  What  in 
thunder  an'  guns  be  ye  duin'  on,  ketchin'  my  mush- 
rats  ?  Clear  aout,  ye  cussed  thieves,  an'  le'  my  mushrats 
alone." 

' '  Is  this  raly  one  o'  your  mushrats  ?' '  Sam  asked, 
picking  up  the  animal  and  examining  it  closely  ;  "  I  don't 
see  no  ear  mark  ner  brand  on  't,  but  if  it's  yourn,  'prove 
prop'ty,  pay  charges  an'  take  it  away.'' 

"  Wai,"  said  the  new-comer,  seating  himself  on  the 
muskrat  house  and  wiping  his  hot  face  with  his  coat-sleeve, 
1 '  you  don' t  b'  long  here  ;  you  ha'  no  business  here  !  These 
is  aour  rats  !" 

"  Oh,  aour  rats,"  said  Sam  quietly ;  "  yes,  they  be  aour 
mushrats— when  we  git  'em,  not  afore.  You  take  your 
sheer,  an'  I'll  take  mine,  'f  we  c'n  git  'em.  And  I'm 
a-goin'  to  git  mine  'f  I  know  haow." 

"  I  tell  ye,"  the  man  reiterated  hotly,"  ye  don't  b'long 
here  ;  ye  ha'  no  business  here  !  Thunder  an'  guns  1 
you're  durn'd  putty  fellers,  hain't  ye  ?" 

"  Don't  b'long  here  ?     I'm  a  V'monter,  an'  live  in  this 


SAM   LOVEL'S    CAMPS.  13 

caounty,  an'  was  horned  and  raised  in  it.  Who  give  ye 
these  mushrats  ?  D'  you  own  this  'ere  ma'sh  ?' ' 

No,  the  visitor  admitted  that  he  did  not  own  the  marsh, 
but  he  lived  near  it,  and  he  and  two  or  three  other  resi 
dents  had  always  trapped  in  Little  Otter  and  the  two 
Slangs,  "  and  the  trappin'  here  b' longed  to  'em." 

"  Haow  many  traps  do  the  hull  caboodle  on  ye  set  ?" 
Sam  asked  ;  and  after  reckoning  in  his  head  and  on  his 
fingers,  the  man  said,  "  'Baout  hund'ed  an'  fifty." 

"  A  hund'ed  an'  fifty  traps  on  all  these  miles  o'  ma'sh  ! 
Wai,  I  guess  what  we've  got  won't  make  no  great  diffunce 
wi'  ye,  so  don't  fret  yer  gizzard,  my  friend.  The's  room 
'nough  for  all  on  us,  an'  we'd  like  to  live  friendly  wi'  you 
fellers,  but  anyway,  we're  goin'  to  trap  here  a  spell." 

"Who  gin  ye  leave  to  camp  over  yunder  ?"  the  man 
asked,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  shanty. 

"The  man  'at  owns  it,"  Sam  answered  shortly.  "I 
do'  know  why  in  Sam  Hill  I  never  thought  to  ask  you — 
but  then,  you  see,  i  hed  not  hed  the  pleasure  o'  your 
'quaintaince  till  jes'  naow.  Be  you  willin'  ?" 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  aggrieved  trapper.  "Camp 
an'  be  cussed  !  Trap  and  be  darned  !  Ye  won't  make 
much  aouten  on  it,  see  'f  ye  du  !"  and  he  went  his  way  in 
no  better  humor  than  he  had  come. 

When  he  was  at  a  safe  distance,  Antoine,  till  now  a  very 
silent  partner,  shook  his  fists  at  his  broad  back,  seized  him 
self  by  the  seat  of  his  trousers  and  apparently  lifted  himself 
off  the  ice  in  a  rapid  series  of  short  leaps,  and  cried  in  a 
tone  that  he  was  sure  would  not  be  heard  by  the  retreating 
foe,  "  Hey  !  bah  gosh  !  Ah  wan'  leek  you,  seh  !"  Then 
turning  to  Sam  and  throwing  down  his  cap,  "  Ah  dunno 
what  for  Ah  ant  tink  for  leek  dat  man  when  he  here." 


14  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

"Wai,  Antwine, "  said  Sam,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "I 
da." 

Then  they  went  back  to  the  camp,  and  Antoine  skinned 
the  rat  from  chin  to  tail,  and  stretched  the  pelt  on  a  bow 
of  "nanny  bush,"  fastening  it  in  place  by  upward  cuts 
through  the  skin  and  into  the  wood  at  the  nether  ends  of 
the  bow.  Then  they  made  their  tea,  frizzled  their  slices 
of  salt  pork  over  the  coals,  and  ate  their  rude  but  well- 
relished  supper.  After  a  long  smoke  they  turned  into  their 
robes  and  blankets. 

Once  when  Sam  arose  to  replenish  the  fire  and  take  a 
quiet  midnight  smoke,  he  thought  he  heard  the  sound  of 
axe  strokes  out  on  the  moonlit  marsh,  but  he  saw  nothing 
and  thought  then  no  more  of  it.  But  next  morning  when 
they  went  abroad  he  and  his  comrade  found  every  muskrat 
house  chopped  down  and  uninhabitable,  and  the  few  traps 
they  had  set  were  thrown  out  upon  the  ice.  Their  un 
pleasant  acquaintance  of  the  day  before,  and  his  partners, 
had  done  their  night's  work  thoroughly.  The  muskrats 
had  retreated  to  their  burrows  in  the  banks,  and  there 
could  be  no  more  trapping  nor  spearing  in  the  ruined 
houses.  Antoine  pranced  and  tore  his  hair,  and  made 
threats  of  terrible  vengeance.  Sam  said,  "  Wai,  arter  all, 
'twas  kinder  neighborly  in  'em  not  to  steal  aour  traps. 
We'll  wait  an'  start  'long  o'  the  rest  on  'em  when  the  ice 
goes  aout." 


II. 

THE  PASSING  OF  WINTER. 

SAM  and  his  partner  lounged  about  camp  waiting  for  the 
opening  of  the  water,  and  there  was  not  much  to  break  the 
dull  monotony  of  those  days  of  waiting.  For  the  most 
part  there  was  little  to  do  but  cook  and  eat  the  simple  fare, 
and  sit  by  the  camp-fire  trimming  muskrat  bows  and  tally 
sticks.  Now  and  then  a  chopper  would  stop  at  the  shanty 
to  light  his  pipe,  and  if  a  Yankee,  to  ask  no  end  of  ques 
tions  ;  or  if  a  Canadian,  to  jabber  with  Antoine  till  Sam 
was  driven  almost  wild  with  the  incessant  jargon  so  unin 
telligible  to  him.  A  mile  down  the  creek  a  party  of  lum 
bermen  were  building  a  raft  of  logs  upon  the  ice,  and  often 
to  pass  the  time  away  Sam  and  Antoine  would  visit  them, 
and  "being  expert  axemen,  help  them  make  "  knock  downs" 
while  they  chatted  and  joked. 

One  day  Sam  was  hunting  about  camp  for  something, 
and  Antoine  asked,  "  What  you  look  see,  Sam  ?" 

"I'm  a-lookin'  for  a  mushrat  carkiss.  I  seen  where  a 
mink's  ben  gallopin'  'raound,  an'  I  want  some  bait  for  a 
trap." 

"  Wai  naow,  seh,  Sam,  you  goin'  b'lieved  what  Ah' 11 
tol'  you.  'T  ant  no  use  for  settlin'  bait  for  minks  to  heat 
naow.  He'll  goin'  sparkin'  dis  tarn  year,  an'  he  ant  cares 
no  more  for  heat  as  you  does  w'en  you'll  goin'  sparkin'. 


1 6  SAM  LOVEL  S    CAMPS. 

Set  you  trap  in  road  where  he'  11  goin'  see  hees  Mamselle 
Hudleh,  Sam,  den  you'll  ketched  it.'' 

'*  Like  's  not  you're  pretty  nigh  right,  Antwine,"  Sam 
said,  laughing,  "  but  he  might  be  comin'  hum  hungry 
arter  his  sparkin'.  I've  knowed  of  such  cases  ;"  and  hav 
ing  found  a  bait  of  odorous  muskrat  flesh  he  hung  it  over 
a  moss-covered  trap  in  a  hollow  log,  and  next  morning 
brought  in  the  lithe  slender  fellow  whose  brown  coat  of  fur 
became  so  fashionable  and  valuable  in  after  years,  though 
then  worth  no  more  than  the  muskrat' s. 

Once  they  went  coon  hunting  in  the  great  woods,  and 
after  a  half  day's  wallowing  through  the  soft,  deep  snow, 
tracked  three  coons  to  a  big  hollow  pine  stub,  and  chop 
ping  it  down,  took  out  five  residents  and  visitors,  whose 
pelts  made  a  showy  if  not  a  rich  addition  to  their  slender 
display  of  peltry. 

Along  the  winter  roadway  of  ice,  now  made  the  most  of 
by  teamsters  while  it  lasted,  frequent  loads  of  logs  and 
wood  or  empty  returning  sleds  came  and  went,  crunching 
in  and  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  To  the  eastward  beyond 
the  wide  fields,  from  where  the  smoke  of  farm  house  chim 
neys  drifted  upward,  came  sounds  of  busy  life  :  the  "jing- 
jong"  of  old-fashioned  "  Boston"  sleigh  bells  faring  to  and 
fro  on  the  highway,  the  steady  thud  of  flails  in  barns,  the 
lowing  of  cows  and  the  bawling  of  calves,  the  cackle  of 
hens  and  the  challenge  of  chanticleer ;  at  noon  the  shouts 
of  schoolboys  and  the  mellow  blasts  of  the  conch-shells 
sounding  for  dinner.  To  the  westward  were  the  woods, 
their  primeval  solitude  almost  undisturbed,  their  silence 
only  broken  by  the  strokes  of  a  far-off  axe,  followed  by  the 
dull  boom  of  the  falling  tree.  At  night  the  gloomy,  cryptic 
aisles  resounded  with  the  solemn  notes  of  the  great  horned 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  17 

owls,  and  once  or  twice  the  trappers  heard  there  the  wild 
caterwauling  of  a  lynx.  So  forty  years  ago  the  narrow 
Slang  was  the  dividing  line  between  broad  fields  that  had 
long  been  cleared  and  cultivated  and  a  thousand  acres  of 
ancient  forest. 

In  this  way  the  days  passed,  while  the  snow  slowly  melted 
off  the  fields  and  the  ice  slowly  rotted.  More  tawny  knolls 
cropped  out  in  pasture  and  meadow,  gray  streaks  of  ice 
came  to  the  surface  along  the  creek  and  Slang,  and  in  the 
woods  the  snow  sunk  lower  and  lower  its  winter  litter  of 
twigs,  shards  of  bark  and  slender  evergreen  leaves,  till 
here  and  there  a  hummock  brown  with  last  year's  fallen 
leafage,  or  a  mouldering  log  bright  with  ever- verdant  moss, 
came  to  the  checkered  sunlight  again. 

Cold  nights  and  cold  days  were  not  infrequent,  when  the 
saturated  snow  was  crusted  hard  enough  to  bear  a  horse, 
and  a  roaring  fire  was  needed  at  the  shanty  front  to  keep 
the  trappers  warmed  into  anything  like  comfort.  But  after 
each  "  cold  snap"  the  south  wind  blew  warmer  than  be 
fore,  more  crows  came  sagging  heavily  along  on  it  from 
their  winter  exile,  the  woodpeckers  sounded  oftener  their 
cheery  roll,  bluebirds  and  the  first  robin  came,  a  phebe 
called  sharply  for  his  mate  and  found  flies  enough  in  sunny 
nooks  to  keep  him  busy  while  he  awaited  her  coming,  and 
a  dusky  chorus  of  blackbirds  gurgled  out  a  medley  of  song 
from  the  tops  of  the  maples,  while  the  tardy  spring  drew 
nearer. 

In  these  warmer  days,  hollow,  unearthly  moans  and  roars, 
rising  at  times  almost  to  a  yell,  were  heard  along  the  lake, 
at  first  faintly  from  afar,  then  nearer,  till  every  jagged  steep 
of  Split-Rock  Mountain  echoed  with  the  wild  voices,  then 
fading  away  to  a  humming  murmur  in  the  distance.  It 


1 8  SAM  NOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

was  as  if  some  tormented  demon  was  fleeing  over  the  ice, 
or  a  phantom  host  of  the  Waubanakee  was  rushing  in  swift, 
superhuman  haste  along  the  ancient  war-path  of  the  dead 
nations.  It  was  the  booming  of  the  lake,  a  sound  strange 
and  almost  appalling  to  Sam,  who,  till  now,  had  never 
heard  it. 

At  last  a  great  rain  came  with  a  strong  southerly  wind, 
and  the  two  made  quick  work  of  the  snow  melting,  and 
the  brooks  poured  down  their  yellow  floods  till  the  sluggish 
current  of  the  Slang  was  stirred.  The  ice,  for  some  days 
unsafe  to  venture  upon,  was  now  honey-combed,  and  pres 
ently  was  only  a  mass  of  loose,  slender,  upright  spires  of 
crystal,  undulating  when  disturbed  in  long,  smooth  swells, 
and  tinkling  a  faint  chime  as  if  a  million  fairy  bells  were 
knolling  its  downfall.  Watery  patches  began  to  show  here 
and  there  on  the  marshes,  great  flocks  of  geese  journeying 
northward  harrowed  the  gray  sky,  and  ducks  in  pairs  and 
droves  came  whistling  down  and  splashed  into  the  open 
water  to  feed  and  rest. 

Then  one  morning,  when  Sam  and  his  companion 
crawled  out  of  the  shanty,  they  beheld  the  long-wished-for 
sight  of  marshes  clear  of  ice,  and  after  a  hasty  breakfast 
they  launched  the  birch  and  dugout  and  loaded  them  with 
the  traps  already  strung  on  the  tally  sticks,  and  each  with 
axe  and  gun  they  set  forth  to  coast  the  low  shores.  The 
boats  kept  close  together,  the  pine  leading  the  birch,  for 
Antoine  was  now  to  take  the  part  of  instructor.  Scanning 
every  half-submerged  log  they  passed,  he  soon  stopped  his 
craft  alongside  a  fallen  limbless  tree  whose  roots  still  clung 
to  the  bank,  while  its  trunk  slanted  with  a  gentle  incline 
into  the  turbid  water.  Abundant  sign  about  the  water-line 
showed  that  the  long-imprisoned  muskrats  had  already 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  19 

made  the  most  of  their  newly  gained  liberty  to  swim  with 
heads  above  water. 

"  Dah  seh,  Sam,  you  see  he  been  here,  lot  of  it,  an' 
prob'ly  he'll  comin'  'gin.  Naow,  chawp  nawtch  in  de 
lawg,  so,"  and  with  half  a  dozen  strokes  of  his  axe  he  cut  a 
neat  notch  in  the  log  just  below  the  water-line,  wide  enough 
to  hold  a  trap  when  set.  It  was  a  pine,  well  preserved, 
and  the  chips  and  notch  were  bright  and  fresh.  "  Naow 
you  see,  w'en  de  nawtch  mek  it  too  shone,  you  wan'  put 
it  on  some  weed,  mud,  sometings, "  and  he  overlaid  the 
cut  with  a  thin  layer  of  sodden  water  weeds.  "  Moosrat 
he  ant  very  cunny,  but  he  lak  see  ting  where  he  been  look 
kan  'o  usual.  "  Then  he  drove  the  tally  pole  firmly  into 
the  soft  bottom,  and  set  the  trap  in  the  notch'  with  no  cov 
ering  but  the  two  inches  of  muddy  water  that  rippled  over 
it  in  the  light  breeze. 

"  Dah,"  he  said,  as  he  resumed  his  paddle,  "if  de 
water  ant  rose  or  don't  fell,  you  as'  dat  trap  to-morrah 
mornin',  he  tol'  you,  moosrat  !" 

At  the  next  promising  place  Antoine  superintended  the 
setting  of  a  trap  by  Sam,  and  pronounced  it,  "  Pooty  well 
do,  for  dee-gin. "  So  they  fared  on  through  the  marshes' 
floating  weeds  and  bristly  thickets  of  button  bush,  now  over 
the  submerged  shore  among  the  trunks  and  sprouts  of  wil 
lows,  water  maples  and  ash  that  bordered  it.  Often  they 
were  startled  by  the  sudden  splash  and  flutter  of  frightened 
wood  ducks  that  arose  before  them  and  went  squeaking 
away  to  some  undisturbed  retreat.  Great  flocks  of  the 
more  wary  dusky  ducks  swam  safely  far  out  from  shore, 
but  at  the  approach  of  the  boats  they  too  took  wing  with  a 
tremendous  uproar  of  splashing  and  quacking.  More  than 
once  they  surprised  some  strange  water-fowl  whose  like 


20  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

they  had  never  seen  before,  some  resting  wayfarer  on  that 
great  thoroughfare  between  northern  and  southern  seas. 
Sam's  eyes  ranged  wider  than  those  of  Antoine,  who  was 
looking  only  for  places  where  traps  might  be  set.  The  tall 
Yankee  laid  down  his  paddle,  took  up  his  gun,  and  after 
a  second's  aim  at  a  brown  lump  that  made  a  scarcely  per 
ceptible  motion  on  an  insular  stump,  fired.  The  lump 
disappeared  at  the  report  of  the  gun,  and  close  beside  the 
stump  the  legs  of  a  dying  muskrat  pawed  the  air. 

"  Hoorah  for  hoorah  !"  Antoine  cheered,  as  Sam  picked 
up  his  game.  "  Nev'  min',  Ah  show  it  to  you  to-naght 
'baout  sun  gone  daown  haow  shoot  moosrat  !  Yas,  seh  ! 
Call  it  raght  up,  clear  'cross  Slang,  seh,  you  see  ?" 

"  All  right,"  Sam  said,  "  I  wanter  see  you  do  it.  D'ye 
shake  a  dish  o'  corn  at  'em  an'  holler  *  caday  !  '  or  whistle 
'em  up  as  ye  would  a  dawg,  er  haow  ?" 

"  Nev'  min',  Ah  show  you,  Ah  tol'  you  truth,  jes  same 
always  Ah  do." 

Sam  got  two  or  three  more  shots,  and  then  they  set 
the  traps  they  had  in  their  boats  on  logs,  bogs,  and  the  ruins 
of  houses  where  the  rats  had  come  to  feed  on  the  succulent 
roots  of  underwater  growth  they  had  reft  and  set  afloat, 
and  the  afternoon  was  well  worn  away  when  they  went 
home  to  the  shanty.  Then  they  had  a  hearty  supper,  a 
part  of  which  was  the  roasted  bodies  of  two  of  the  muskrats 
Sam  had  shot,  and  which  he,  much  against  his  prejudices, 
was  forced  to  confess  were  an  agreeable  change  from  salt 
pork.  When  the  shadows  of  the  tall  trees  touched  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  Slang  the  trappers  took  their  guns  and 
went  thither  in  their  canoes,  which  they  ran  ashore,  and 
there  sat  in  waiting  for  the  game  to  appear.  The  fires  of 
the  sunset  glowed  in  the  western  rim  of  the  clear  sky,  and 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  21 

their  mirrored  counterfeit  shone  as  brightly  in  the  quiet 
water  below  the  black  reflections  of  hemlocks  and  pines 
and  the  fine  tracery  of  the  water  maples'  graceful  limbs. 
Presently  a  shining  wake  cut  the  shadows  as  a  muskrat 
came  up  from  the  entrance  of  his  burrow  and  cruised 
swiftly  along  the  western  shore,  whining  out  a  call  to  his 
lady  love.  As  Sam  watched  the  point  of  the  lengthening 
streak  of  gold  and  listened  to  the  plaintive  impatient  voice, 
so  like  the  whimpering  cry  of  a  young  puppy,  he  was  start 
led  to  hear  it  repeated  close  beside  him.  As  he  turned 
cautiously  in  his  seat,  cocking  his  gun,  he  saw  nothing  but 
Antoine  with  his  lips  pressed  firmly  together  blowing  his 
breath  out  between  them  with  what  seemed  a  painful  effort, 
for  he  was  very  red  in  the  face  and  his  eyes  were  bulging 
from  their  sockets.  But  his  simulation  of  the  muskrat' s 
call  was  perfect,  and  the  little  swimmer  at  once  shaped  his 
course  toward  him.  The  treacherous  call  was  kept  up  till 
the  poor  fool  was  within  four  rods  of  the  muzzle  of  An 
toine' s  musket,  which  then  belched  forth  its  fatal  charge. 
"  Dah  !"  said  the  Canuck,  as  he  picked  up  the  riddled 
muskrat,  "  Ah  guess  heeshole  folks  ant  be  worry  for  heem 
be  aout  sparkin'  naghts  some  more,  don't  it  ?  Bah  gosh, 
ant  Ah  tol'  you  Ah' 11  call  it,  hein  ?" 

Shining  wakes  streaked  the  darkening  water  in  all  di 
rections,  and  Antoine  called  half  a  dozen  more  deluded 
victims  to  their  doom  before  the  gloaming  thickened  to  the 
mirk,  and  gun-sights  were  no  longer  to  be  seen.  As  they 
wended  homeward,  guided  by  the  faint  light  of  their  low 
camp-fire,  Sam  swore,  "  By  the  gret  horn  spoon,  I  wish  't 
I  hed  the  ol'  Ore  Bed  here  !  It  'ould  be  fun  to  pop  them 
swimmin'  mushrats  with  it."  (The  Ore  Bed  was  an  an 
cient  rifle  owned  by  him,  bearing  a  township  fame  for  its 


22  SAM   LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

shooting  qualities,  and  owing  its  name  to  the  many  pounds 
of  iron  in  its  barrel.)  "  I  wish  't  I  hed  it  here  !" 

"  Wai,  Ah  dunno — prob'ly  'f  hole  Bahtlett  don't  usin' 
hees  big  hoxens  you  can  sen'  lett'  an'  get  heem  drawed  it 
daown  here  ;  but  Ah  dunno,  sleighin'  all  gone  naow,"  said 
Antoine,  as  the  canoe  bottoms  scraped  the  landing  at  the 
shanty. 

As  Sam  lay  on  the  buffalo  skins  smoking,  between  whiffs 
he  practised  the  muskrat  call  that  Antoine  had  taught  him 
till  he  became  so  proficient  that  his  tutor  called  sleepily 
from  his  bed,  "  Dah,  Sam,  you  betteh  stop  you  foolishin', 
fore  fus'  you  knowmoosrat  come  an'  bitaff  you  nose  off." 


III. 

NEWS  FROM  DANVIS. 

THE  quiet  water  shone  like  a  broad  floor  of  silver  in  the 
early  light,  when  the  canoes  left  the  landing  next  morning 
and  began  to  crinkle  the  reflections  of  banks  and  trees  and 
reddening  sky.  The  few  new-come  robins  sang  their  loud 
"Cheer  up!"  here  and  there  a  blackbird  called  "  shoo- 
glee  !"from  the  shores,  and  the  loud  nasal  "  quank  !  quank  ! 
quank  !"  of  the  dusky  duck  resounded  from  distant  swampy 
coves,  as  Sam  took  his  course  up  stream  where  the  fewer 
traps  were  set,  while  Antoine  coasted  down  stream  along 
the  flat  cape  that  lies  between  the  Slang  and  Little  Otter. 

Each  made  frequent  stops  to  examine  the  traps,  some  of 
which  were  undisturbed  ;  but  the  greater  number  were  off 
the  places  they  had  been  set  on  and  out  of  sight  under 
water.  Such,  when  fished  up  with  the  trap  hook,  brought 
with  them  a  drowned  muskrat,  his  soft  fur  plastered  to  his 
body  by  long  soaking,  and  his  scaly  tail  curved  like  a 
cimeter  ;  or  a  foot,  the  ransom  a  captive  had  paid  for  his 
freedom  ;  or,  as  valuable  as  this  to  the  trapper,  but  not  so 
satisfying  to  his  pride  of  skill,  the  sprung  trap's  jaws  full 
of  sodden  weeds.  In  one  Sam  found  a  wood  duck,  his 
bright  eyes  wild  with  pain  and  fright.  He  eased  the  jaws 
carefully  from  the  leg,  which  was  not  broken,  and  after  ad 
miring  his  beautiful  prisoner's  gay  spring  attire,  while  per 
haps  there  was  a  little  debate  between  a  soft  heart  and  a 


24  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

pork-surfeited  stomach,  he  said,  "Wai,  I'll  be  darned  if 
you  ain't  the  harnsomest  creetur  'at  ever  I  see — too  harn- 
some  to  kill  in  col'  blood  !  Good-by,  an'  keep  off  'm 
all  lawgs  this  time  o'  year,"  and  he  tossed  the  bird  gently 
aloft.  As  it  went  whistling  and  squeaking  out  of  sight  be 
tween  tree  trunks  and  branches  with  twists  as  dexterous  as 
a  woodcock's  among  the  alders,  Sam  said  after  a  long 
breath,  "  Wai,  Sam  Lovcl,  like  's  not  you're  a  dummed 
ol'  chickin-hearted  fool  !  /  shouldn't  wonder." 

Once  in  the  still,  sunny  forenoon  he  stopped  a  moment 
to  listen  to  a  voice  that  came  from  far  across  the  water, 
shouting  something  that  was  meant  for  the  song  of  "  Old 
King  Cole."  "  Humph  !"  he  grunted  as  he  sent  his 
boat  forward  again.  ' '  As  Joel  Bartlett'  s  Irishman  said  when 
he  heard  the  ol'  man  tryin'  to  sing  when  he  thought  the' 
wa'n't  nobody  in  hearin',  '  If  that  bees  singin',  cryin'  bees 
mournful  !  '  Then  clear  and  tuneful  the  long-drawn 
cadences  of  an  old  Canadian  song  came  echoing  along  the 
woody  shores.  ;'  That's  Antwine,"  Sam  remarked. 
"  Suthin'  like  singin',  only  it's  the  tune  the  '  ol'  caow 
died  on.'  'F  he  only  hed  some  words,  'n'  hed  'em  sot  to 
a  white  folkses'  tune,  Antwine  c'ld  sing."  The  song 
stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  the  singer  had  heard  this  dispar 
aging  criticism. 

A  little  after  noon  he  had  made  the  rounds  of  his  traps 
and  was  back  at  camp,  where  shortly  alterward  the  Cana 
dian  appeared  with  a  cloud  of  gloom  shadowing  his  usually 
cheerful  face,  the  more  unaccountable  that  a  goodly  pile 
of  muskrats  lay  in  the  bow  of  his  canoe.  After  dinner,  as 
they  were  skinning  their  catch,  Antoine  unburdened  him 
self,  breaking  out  suddenly  after  a  long  silence,  "  Bah 
gosh  !  seh,  Ah' 11  see  dat  mans  to-day  what  come  mek  it 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS,  25 

sass  on  de  ice  dat  tarn,  you  rembler.  Bah  gosh  !  he'll 
bruse  me  all  up,  wus  Ah  never  was  'fore,  seh." 

"  Bruised  ye,  Antwine  ?  Why,  I  don't  see  no  marks  on 
yer  face.  Did  he  kick  ye,  er  what  ?" 

"  Oh,  no  na-no,  no  !  He  ant  tawch  me.  He  'fraid 
for  know  better  'n  dat.  He  bruse  me  wid  his  maouths  ; 
he  call  me  more  as  forty  Canuck  !  Tief  !  Peasoup  ! 
Evreeting  he  mos'  can't  tink  of  it  !  He  bruse  you,  too  ; 
call  it  you  '  Gum  Chaw.'  He  tol'  me,  '  Haow  much 
gum  tek  it  for  keep  dat  long  chap  'live  all  day  ?'  He 
askit  me  we  settlin'  trap  where  he  b'long  to  it.  \Ve 
tief  !  Oh,  Ah  can'  tol'  all  of  it.  If  it  ant  for  one 
ting,  Ah  come  pooty  near  leek  heem,  Ah  b'lieve  so, 
seh  !" 

"  What  was't  saved  the  poor  creetur's  hide,  Antwine  ?'' 
Sam  asked,  as  he  tossed  the  last  disrobed  muskrat  on  to 
the  gory  heap  of  carcases. 

"  Wai,  seh,  Ah  tol'  you,"  Antoine  replied,  waving  his 
bloody  knife  impressively,  "  Ah' 11  be  so  mad  Ah'll  'fraid 
'f  Ah'll  beegin  Ah  ant  never  stop  'fore  Ah'll  keel  heem  all 
dead  !  Den  Ah  be  hang,  jus'  for  littly  ting  lak  dat  !  Den 
who  goin'  tek'  care  of  it  Ursule  an'  all  dat  chillens,  hein  ? 
No,  seh  ;  Ah  ant  goin'  dirty  dat  nasky  Bastonien*  wid  ma 
finger.  You  wan'  hear  it  talk,  sing,  too,  bah  gosh,  dat 
mek  you  laff't  at  it ;  can'  sing  more  as  pigs — you  go  dat 
way  to-morreh,  Ah  go  todder  way —  Oh,  Sam,  too,"  he 
cried,  suddenly  remembering  an  important  bit  of  news, 
"  peekrils  beegin  play  !  Ah'll  see  tree,  four  of  it  !  If  he 

*  NOTE. — I  have  no  idea  how  this  word,  Canuck  for  Yankee, 
is  spelled.  The  Abenakis'of  St.  Francis  call  a  Yankee  "  Pas- 
toniak.  '  Probably  both  words  mean  a  Bostonian. 


26  SAM  LOVEUS   CAMPS. 

be  good  day  to-morrah,  we  have  it  some  fun  shoot  it,  an' 
more  of  it  heat  it.     You'll  see  any  ?" 

"  Wai,"  said  Sam,  considering,  "  I  did  see  wakes  of 
tew  three  fish  a-skivin'  away  fm  the  shore,  but  I  do'  know 
what  they  was." 

"  Dat  peekrils,  Ah  bet  you  head  !"  and  he  discoursed 
at  length  on  the  sport  of  pickerel  shooting,  while  they 
stretched  the  skins  of  the  twenty- five  or  more  rats  their 
traps  had  yielded  and  hung  them  to  dry  on  poles.  As  they 
lounged  about  the  camp  waiting  for  the  evening  shooting, 
they  heard  a  loud  call  on  the  opposite  shore  a  little  above 
a  cove  where  two  brooks  contributed  their  waters  to  the 
Slang,  and  the  long-drawn-out  call,  "  Sa — ^am — will  !  An 
— twine  !"  was  presently  followed  by  the  dolorous  howl  of 
a  dog.  "  If  that  hain't  ol'  Drive' shoot,  I  never  heard  it," 
cried  Sam,  his  heart  beats  quickening  at  the  old  familiar 
voice,  "  an'  I'll  bate  that  'ere  's  Peltier  a-hollerin'  !"  and 
running  down  to  the  landing  he  stooped  and  pulled  the 
bushes  aside,  and  peering  out  saw  the  unmistakable,  lank, 
clothes-out  growing  form  of  his  young  neighbor,  and  sitting 
close  beside  him  on  the  clayey  bank  Drive,  with  uplifted 
muzzle  and  ears  drooping  to  his  elbows,  while  his  sonorous 
voice  awakened  lowland  echoes  that  it  had  never  stirred  till 
now. 

"  All  right,  Peltier  !"  Sam  answered,  "  I'll  be  over 
arter  ye  torights,"  and  called  back  to  Antoine  as  he  set 
the  dugout  afloat,  "  I'll  take  your  canew,  it's  stiddier 'n 
mine,"  and  in  five  minutes  the  craft  ran  its  nose  up  among 
the  floating  rushes  at  Pelatiah's  feet. 

"  I  swan  !  I  never  thought  o'  seein'  you  here  yit  awhile, 
but  I'm  almighty  glad  to,"  said  Sam  heartily,  as  he  step 
ped  ashore  and  grasped  the  hand  that  was  stretched  out  to 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  27 

him  a  half  foot  beyond  the  shrinking  coat  sleeve.  "  An' 
you  too,  you  blessed  ol'  cuss,"  as  he  bent  down  and  patted 
the  jubilant  hound's  hooped  sides  with  resounding  slaps, 
and  pulled  his  long  silken  ears,  while  he  looked  into  the 
face  whose  furrowed,  sorrowful  lines  were  lighted  with  an 
unwonted  sunshine  of  joy.  "What  on  airth  brung  you 
here?  Can't  you  git  along  'thaout  me,  ye  durned  ol' 
critter,  hey?  Come,  Peltier,"  cutting  short  the  hound's 
caresses,  "  git  right  in  wi'  your  duds,  if  you've  fetched 
any,  an'  we'll  go  over  to  the  pallis  an'  git  supper  'fore  the 
roas'  beef  an'  turkey  an'  things  gits  cold.  Git  in  here, 
Drive,  an'  lay  daown."  And  Pelatiah  stumbled  up  the 
bank,  turning  toward  his  friend  a  puzzled  face  as  he  went, 
and  returned  with  a  great  half-filled  carpet  bag  of  once 
gorgeous  but  now  faded  colors,  which  he  handed  to  Sam, 
and  then  made  another  trip,  bringing  down  this  time  the 
famous  old  Ore  Bed.  Sam's  eyes  shone  with  delight  when 
he  saw  the  ponderous  piece,  its  long  octagonal  barrel  cased 
to  the  muzzle  in  the  "  curly  maple"  stock,  its  trimmings, 
hooked  heel  plate,  and  patchbox  of  brass  that  glistened  like 
gold  where  hand  or  shoulder  had  brightened  them  with  wear. 

"  Jest  ezackly  what  I  was  a-wishin'  for^ist'd'y,"  he  said 
as  he  laid  the  cherished  weapon  in  the  canoe,  pillowing  it 
on  the  carpet  bag.  "  How  come  ye  to  think  o'  bringin' 
on  't  ?  But  there  !  I'll  bate  you  never  brung  a  bullit  ner 
moulds  ner  lead,  ?n'  'tain't  no  more  use  'n  a  club." 

"  Wall,  naow,  I  did,"  Pelatiah  drawled,  combing  out 
his  words  through  a  broad  grin,  "  'n'  the  hull  three  on 
'em  's  in  the  v'lise. " 

"  Good  boy  !"  Sam  said  approvingly  ;  "  naow  git  right 
in  an'  squa'  daown  right  there,  an'  set  still,  for  this  'ere 
ol'  holler  lawg  hain't  quite  so  stiddy  's  the  scaow  on  the 


28  SAM  LO  PEL'S   CAMPS 

mill-paund. ' '  That  ancient  square-built  vessel,  as  incapable 
of  capsizing  as  of  speed,  was  the  only  craft  Pelatiah  had 
ever  boarded  till  now,  and  he  took  his  allotted  place  in  the 
canoe  with  no  little  trepidation,  the  obedient  hound 
crouching  trembling  and  whimpering  behind  him.  Grasp 
ing  either  gunwale  with  a  firm  grip  he  pulled  lustily  on  the 
one  which  dipped  the  lower  to  right  the  long  narrow  boat 
as  she  backed  careening  from  the  shore.  "  Le'  go  the 
sides  an'  set  still,"  said  Sam  sharply,  as  he  headed  her  for 
the  shanty,  "  erless  yewanter  spill  the  hull  caboodle  on  us 
int'  the  drink  !"  And  Pelatiah  minded,  not  even  speak 
ing,  and  scarcely  breathing  till  he  felt  the  land  under  foot 
again.  Then  regarding  the  Slang  and  letting  out  his  pent- 
up  breath  with  a  great  sigh  of  relief,  "  Whoofh  !  I  swan  to 
man,  this  is  the  goldarndest  pawnd  't  ever  I  see  !  I  be 
durned  'f  'tain't  wussen  crossin'  the  'Tlantic  Ocean  !" 
Then  turning  toward  the  shanty  he  saw  the  array  of  drying 
muskrat  skins.  "  Gosh  all  fishhooks  !  Where  d'ye  git 
sech  a  snarl  o'  stockin's  ?" 

"  Dat  coats,  Peltiet,"  Antoine  answered,  now  approach 
ing  and  greeting  the  visitor,  "  moosrat  coats.  We'll  trow 
'way  all  hees  stockin'.  Haow  you  do  pooty  well,  seh  ? 
Bah  gosh  !  Ah '11  glad  of  it  !  Haow  pooty  well  all  de 
folkses  up  Danvis  was,  hein  ?  Ma  waf  he  pooty  well,  too, 
an'  all  de  chillens  ?  Ah'll  glad  dat  !"  he  ran  on, 
while  Pelatiah  nodded  the  answers  that  his  slow  speech 
was  allowed  no  time  to  give.  "  Wai,  seh,  Ah'll  wan'  see 
it  pooty  bad  me.  Ah'll  tink  great  many  of  ma  waf  an' 
chillens. " 

' '  Well  ye  may, ' '  said  Sam,  hauling  up  the  canoe  ;  ' '  the' s 
a  great  many  on  'em  to  think  on.  Haow  many  young 
uns  hev  ye  got,  Antwine  ?" 


SAM  LOVEL'S    CAMPS.  29 

"  Bah  gosh,  Sam,  Ah  dunno  for  sartin.  Ah' 11  ant  be 
home  formos'  four  week  'go  !  You' 11  have  askitPeltiet !" 

"  I  wa'n't  there  more'n  half  'n  haour,  'n;  I  didn't  hev 
time  to  count  'em,  so  I  can't  tell  ye,"  said  Pelatiah,  fore 
stalling  the  question. 

"Wai,  never  mind  naow,  we'll  take 'count  o'  stock 
some  other  time.  Le's  ha'  some  supper  'n'  then  go  a- 
shootin'.  I  wanter  be  borin'  holes  in  some  o'  them  mush- 
rats'  heads  with  th'  ol'  Ore  Bed.  Antwine,  cook  some  o' 
them  ma'sh  rabbits,  so  's  't  Peltier  c'n  try  'em,"  Sam  said, 
winking  hard  and  covertly  at  the  Canadian. 

"  Maash  rrrabbeet  ?"  he  said,  with  staring  eyes. 
"  Ooh  !  yas  !''  as  he  slowly  comprehended,  "  Ah '11  got 
some  dat  all  save  up,"  and  slipping  behind  the  shanty,  he 
soon  reappeared  with  three  pairs  of  small,  nicely  dressed 
hindquarters  of  dark-colored  meat. 

Presently  they  were  sizzling  in  the  frying  pan,  and  their 
savory  odor  was  pleasant  to  Pelatiah' s  nostrils,  as  to  his 
ears  were  the  bubbling  of  the  potato  kettle  swung  on  its 
pole  over  the  fire  and  the  simmer  of  the  teapot  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  coals.  Then  when  the  repast  was  spread  on 
and  about  the  slab  that  served,  as  far  as  it  went,  as  a  table, 
and  the  three  seated  themselves  on  blocks  around  it,  Sam 
said  as  a  sort  of  grace  before  meat  :  "  The  man  'at  finds 
fault  wi'  this  meal  o'  victuals  is,  like  Uncle  Lisher's  cus 
tomer,  too  durn'd  p'tic'lar.  A  feller,"  he  explained,  as 
he  helped  himself  to  a  potato  and  began  to  peel  it  with  his 
jack-knife— for  now  that  they  could  be  kept  in  the  shanty 
without  freezing  they  had  potatoes — "a  feller  come  to 
Uncle  Lisher  onct  for  a  pair  o'  right  an'  left  boots.  He 
wa'n't  useter  makin'  nothin'  but  straight  boots,  an'  when 
the  feller  come  to  try  'em  on,  lo  an'  behol'  !  they  was 


30  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

both  made  for  one  foot  !  The  feller  begin  to  objeck  some 
to  takin'  'on  ''em,  an'  Uncle  Lisher  he  hollered  so 's  't 
you  c'ld  a-heard  him  half  a  mild,  '  Good  airth  an'  seas, 
man,  you're  too  durn'd  p'tic'lar  !  '  " 

"  Hounh  !"  Pelatiah  snorted,  "  I  hain't  a-findin'  no 
fault  wi'  your  roas'  beef  an'  turkey,  by  a  jug  full.  This 
'ere  ma'sh  rabbit  is  complete  eatin'.  I  never  hearn  tell 
on  'em  afore.  It's  darker  meated  and  kinder  juicier  'n 
whaot  aour  rabbits  be.  Turn  white  in  winter,  du  they  ?" 

"No,  "Sam  said,  soberly,  while  Antoine  was  choking 
with  suppressed  laughter  and  cursing  "  dat  sacre  bone 
rabbit  Ah*  11  swaller  in  ma  troat. ''  "  No,  they're  diff'ent 
fm  aour  rabbits  in  c'nsid'able  many  ways.  They're  pus 
sier  'n'  clumsier,  'n*  some  longer  tailed  'n'  shorter  eared 
'n  what  aourn  be,  'n'  they  hant  turrible  wet  places  so  's 
't  ye  can't  hunt  'em  wi'  dawgs,  and  to  my  notion  they  be 
better  eatin',  as  you  say  ;"  and  Sam  began  on  another 
quarter.  "  We'll  show  you  haow  we  git  'em  'fore  you  go 
hum.  An'  speakin'  o'  hum,  what's  the  news?  Every 
body  toll' able  well?" 

"  The'  wa'n't  nobody  sick,"  as  Pelatiah  knowed  on. 
"  'Hial  Hamner  hed  a  caow  die,  though — best  one  't  he  hed. 
'N'  ol'  Gran' sir  Hill,  he's  kinder  peaked  this  spring, 
though  not  to  say  sick.  Braggin'  wuss'never'baout  what 
him  'n'  Eth'n  Allen  done  tu  Ti.  'n'  crosser  'n  a  bear  wi' 
a  sore  head,  M'ri  Hill  says." 

"  All  hands  busy  a-sugarin',  I  s'pose  ?  Putty  middlin' 
good  sugar  year,  judgin'  f  m  the  weather  here — frosty  nights 
'n'  warm  days  for  quite  a  spell  naow." 

'  Yes,  sir  ;  hed  two  three  o'  the  goldarndest  runs  't  ever 
ye  see.  Couldn't  scasely  git  away,  hed  to  most  run  away, 
sap  run  so,  but  the'  was  father,  'n'  Jethro,  'n'  'Niram  'n' 


SAM  LOVEL:S  CAMPS.  31 

'mongst  'em  to  tend  to  't,  'n'  so  I  come.  Sugar  an' 
surrup  !  I  mos'  forgot  !"  and  he  scrambled  over  to  his 
carpet  bag,  and  unlocking  it,  drew  forth  from  its  depths 
two  quart  bottles  and  a  cylindrical  package  wrapped  in  a 
newspaper.  "Them's  for  you,  Samwill, "  and  diving 
again  into  the  recesses  of  the  bag,  he  came  up  with  a  larger 
package  that  diffused  a  garlicky  odor  as  he  tossed  it  to 
Antoine,  "  Here's  suthin'  your  womern  sent  ye." 

"  Onion  !"  Antoine  shouted,  tearing  open  the  paper 
and  biting  one  of  the  hot  little  shallots  as  a  boy  would  an 
apple.  "  Dey  can'  be  no  better  in  dis  woiT." 

"  Why,"  said  Sam,  uncorking  one  of  the  bottles,  "  this 
'ere  's  maple  sweet  !"  and  then  as  he  unrolled  the  pack 
age  a  dozen  little  scalloped  cakes  of  sugar  tumbled  out  on 
to  the  slab.  "  Much  obleeged  to  ye,  Peltier,  for  remem- 
b'rin'  on  us  this  way." 

"  Hoh  !  Ye  needn't  thank  me  for  't.  Them  'ere 
'lasses  an'  sugar  didn't  come  aouten  no  trees  o'  aourn. 
The  fact  o'  the  business  is,  you're  beholden  to  trees,  an' 
things,  'at  growed  on  the  Pur'n't'n  place,  Samwill,"  and 
Pelatiah  leered  and  winked,  while  Sam's  sunburned  face 
grew  redder  with  blushes. 

"Wai,  'f  we've  goddone  eatin'  le's  git  ready  'n'  go 
shootin'  mushrat,"  he  said  ;  "I'm  spilin'  to  pint  the  oF 
Ore  Bed  at  'em.  Haow  'd  ye  come  to  bring  it,  Peltier? 
Didn't  hear  me  a-wishin'  for  it,  did  ye  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  gracious  I  hedn't  thought  on't  ner  onder- 
took  !  My  arms  'n'  shoulders  aches  wuss  'n  rheumatiz, 
a  luggin'  the  pleggid  ol'  ton  o'  iron  clearn  f  m  V'gennes 
daown  here!  But,  ye  see,  I  couldn't  get  no  gun  no- 
wheres — tried  to  borrer  more'n  twenty-five  ;  but  they  was 
alia  goin'  to  use  'em,  er  they  was  aout  o'  kilter,  er  suthin'  ! 


32  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

Then  your  folks  said  haovv  't  I  might  take  the  Ore  Bed  ; 
thought  I  wouldn't,  I  s'pose.  They  didn't  know  what  a 
durn'd  fool  I  was,  V  I  didn't,  nuther  ;  but  I  du  naow," 
and  he  rubbed  his  bruised  shoulders  and  perhaps  wondered 
as  he  stroked  his  aching  arms  if  the  weight  of  the  gun 
had  drawn  them  a  little  further  beyond  the  protection  of 
the  short  coat-sleeves. 

"  Wai,  I'm  sorry  ye  hed  such  a  job  a-gettin'  it  here," 
Sam  said  ;  "  but  naow,  Peltier,  every  mushrat  I  shoot  with 
it  you  shall  hev,  an'  every  one  't  you  shoot  with  my  shot 
gun,  tu.  Come,  let's  be  off  !" 

So  they  went  to  the  other  side  of  the  Slang,  where 
Pelatiah,  armed  with  Sam's  shotgun,  was  set  ashore  at  a 
likely  place,  the  others  stationing  themselves  in  the  canoes 
near  him.  It  was  the  young  man's  luck  to  have  the  first 
shot.  A  muskrat  broke  the  surface  not  far  from  him  and 
swam  steadily  past,  while  Pelatiah,  with  a  thumping  of  the 
heart  that  made  his  gun  muzzle  wobble,  after  a  long  aim 
fired.  When  he  craned  his  neck,  expecting  to  see  the  dead 
or  struggling  animal,  there  was  only  a  boil  of  water  en 
compassed  with  widening  rings  of  little  waves. 

'  You  shot  over  him,"  said  Sam  in  a  low  voice  ;  "  you 
wanter  sight  an  inch  below  the  water-line  an'  a  leetle  speck 
ahead  when  they're  swimmin'  acrost  ye." 

Just  then  the  uninjured  rat  came  up  fifteen  rods  to  his 
right,  swimming  straight  away.  The  ponderous  barrel 
was  slowly  raised  and  cracked  out  its  sharp  report  at  the 
very  instant  the  small  mark  was  covered,  and  the  muskrat 
floated  dead,  gently  tossed  on  the  wavelets  of  his  own  wake. 
Sam  soon  had  an  opportunity  to  practise  his  newly  ac 
quired  art.  A  rat  struck  out  from  a  point  above  with  the 
evident  intention  of  crossing  to  the  west  side,  where  per- 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  33 

haps  he  had  an  appointment  with  some  furry  beauty  of  his 
race.  If  so,  he  was  a  faithless  fellow,  for  Sam  had  hardly 
begun  to  sound  the  call  before  he  turned  and  swam  toward 
the  siren  voice,  till  the  Ore  Bed  spat  out  at  him  its  thin 
streak  of  fire,  and  he  rolled  over,  feebly  kicking  his  last 
with  a  bullet  in  his  silly  little  brain. 

"  There's  tew  for  ye,  Peltier,"  Sam  said,  as  he  got  his 
gun  on  end  and  began  to  reload  it.  "  Let  'em  lay  where 
they  be  till  we  git  through  ;  they're  deader  'n  hay." 

Antoine  had  a  couple  of  successful  shots  and  a  miss  that 
set  him  to  cursing,  in  turn,  his  gun,  powder,  and  shot,  and 
the  muskrat  who  had  been  so  impolite  as  not  to  receive 
his  charge.  Then  Sam  called  one  within  short  range  of 
Pelatiah,  who,  carefully  following  the  instructions  given 
him,  blazed  away.  The  water  boiled  again  when  the 
muskrat  had  disappeared,  and  after  watching  the  spot  with 
mingled  hope  and  disappointment  till  the  troubled  waters 
became  quiet,  and  the  last  ripple  washed  the  bank  at  his 
feet,  the  latter  expression  took  full  possession  of  his  chop- 
fallen  visage.  "  I  can't  hit  nothin'  !"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
so  melancholy  that  it  was  almost  a  wail.  "  I  can't  hit 
nothin',  an',  I  won't  try  agin — be  durned  if  I  du  !" 
Just  then  a  dark  object  popped  suddenly  to  the  surface  and 
lay  motionless  in  the  centre  of  the  circling  ripples.  The 
boy  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes  when  he  saw  that  it  was 
the  muskrat,  "dead  as  a  hommer, "  as  he  presently  pro 
claimed.  When  they  picked  up  the  rat  half  an  hour  later, 
they  found  his  jaws  full  of  bottom  weeds  that  he  had 
grasped  in  his  death  struggle,  and  that  had  held  him  down 
till  the  buoyancy  of  his  dead  body  loosened  them. 

It  was  now  grown  so  dark,  that  looking  toward  the 
other  shore,  one  could  not  make  out  where  trees  and  banks 


34  SAM  LOVEV S   CAMPS. 

left  off  and  their  reflections  began,  save  when  the  ripples 
of  a  wake,  breaking  on  the  shore,  caught  a  glint  of  the 
dying  daylight,  and  divided  the  upper  gloom  and  its  mir 
rored  double  with  a  crinkled  line  of  silver.  Then  they 
went  to  the  "  pallis,"  as  Sam  had  named  it,  and  reviving 
the  feeble  fire  with  an  armful  of  wood,  sat  chatting  of  home, 
trapping,  and  hunting,  till  Sam  remarked,  "  Wai,  's  Uncle 
Lisher  uster  say,  it's  high  time  all  honest  folks  was  abed." 


IV. 

COLD   WATER   QUENCHES   VALOR. 

WHEN  Sam,  the  earliest  riser  of  the  three  tenants  of  the 
camp,  crept  abroad  next  morning  the  daylight  pervaded  a 
misty  landscape.  Close  by  the  camp  the  silvery  gray  sur 
face  of  the  Slang  was  visible,  then  faded  off  into  a  dull 
white  lake  of  fog  that  had  for  its  further  shore  the  dun  up 
land  fields  and  .jutting  capes  of  wooded  hills.  Out  of  it 
scattered  trees  arose  with  apparently  unstable  rootage,  and 
roofs  of  barns  like  stranded  hulks.  The  hemlocks  dripped 
a  slow  patter  of  condensed  mist,  and  the  bottoms  of  the 
overturned  canoes  were  beaded  so  thick  with  it  that  they 
looked  as  if  sheathed  with  a  coating  of  pearls.  The  light 
air  from  the  south,  so  faint  that  it  scarcely  bent  the  col 
umns  of  rising  vapor,  was  soft  with  the  breath  of  spring, 
and  the  voices  of  many  birds  uprose  to  welcome  the 
beautiful  day — the  gurgle  of  blackbirds,  the  flicker's  cackle, 
the  robin's  clear  but  jerky  notes,  the  long-drawn  whistle  of 
the  meadow  lark  away  in  the  foggy  fields,  the  trill  of  the 
song  sparrow,  and  the  joyous  warble  of  the  purple  finch. 
A  crow  on  a  tree-top  began  to  call  his  friends  to  breakfast 
with  him  on  the  heap  of  skinned  muskrats  that  the  trap 
pers  had  left  at  proper  distance  from  camp,  and  re 
minded  Sam  that  it  was  time  to  make  preparations  for  his 
own  and  his  companions'  breakfast.  He  raked  a  few  live 
coals  out  of  the  heart  of  the  ashes,  and  placing  them  be- 


36  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

side  the  back-log,  laid  some  "  fat"  pine  shavings  and  sliv 
ers  upon  them,  and  after  some  lusty  blowing  got  a  blaze 
started.  When  he  began  to  cut  the  wood  to  feed  the  fire, 
the  noise  of  the  axe  aroused  Antoine,  who  came  out  on  all 
fours  from  his  lair  in  such  a  half  asleep  and  blinking  con 
dition  that  Sam  was  reminded  of  some  hibernating  aminal 
taking  its  first  look  at  awakening  nature.  He  said  noth 
ing  till  Sam  hung  the  potato  kettle  over  the  fire,  and  claw 
ing  a  dozen  potatoes  out  of  the  grimy  bag  they  were  stored 
in,  began  to  peel  them.  "  What  you  goin'  call  dat  dinny 
you  mek  it  wen  you  git  him  do,  suppy  or  breakfis,  Ah 
dunno,  me  ?" 

"Supper,  I  guess,  'fyou  don't  flax  'raound  a  leetle 
mite  'n'  help.  Wake  up  7n'  get  some  ma'sh  rabbits  ready 
'fore  Peltier  gits  his  eyes  open  'nough  to  see  what  kind  of 
a  critter  the  hindquarters  growed  on.  'T  'ould  spile  his 
appetite  t'  eat  if  he  knowed  they  was  mushrats  when  they 
was  livin'." 

"  Bah  gosh  !"  Antoine  grumbled  as  he  shuffled  away  to 
prepare  the  meat,  "  Ah' 11  rudder  sleep  as  git  up  in  a 
naght  for  heat  !  Ah' 11  jes'  beegin  have  it  some  funs 
dreamin',  you'll  wek  it  me  all  up  wid  you  hole  ax— pluck  ! 
pluck  !" 

"  High  time  to  be  a-stirrin',  Antwine,"  Sam  said 
cheerfully.  "  Traps  to  go  'raound  to,  an'  then  the  fish 
shootin'  you've  ben  a-tellin'  on.  It's  goin'  to  be  the  neat 
est  day  'at  ever  was  !'' 

"  Wai,  Ah  don'  care  for  me,"  Antoine  said,  becoming 
reconciled  to  the  loss  of  his  matutinal  nap  as  he  realized 
what  promise  the  morning  gave.  "  Guess  he  be  pooty 
good  'nough  day— w'en  he  come." 

Pelatiah  was  called  when   the  water  was  drained  out  of 


SAM   LOVEV  S  CAMPS.  37 

the  potato  kettle  and  the  frying  pan  was  taken  off  the 
coals  and  set  upon  the  slab  beside  it.  Kneeling  on  the 
shore  to  wash  his  face  and  hands  as  the  others  had  done 
already,  he  asked,  turning  his  dripping  visage  toward  them 
with  an  expression  of  disgust  upon  it,  "  Wha'  d'ye  du  for 
suthin  to  drink  ?  This  'ere  water  hain't  fit  !  I  hain't  hed 
a  decent  drink  o'  water  sen  I  come  off  'm  the  hills.  This 
'ere  stuff  'raound  here  don't  hit  nowheres  !" 

"  Jullukme,"  Sam  answered,  "  when  I  fust  com'  daown 
here.  The  well  water  an'  sech  didn't  squench  my  thirst 
no  more  'n  it  'ould  to  open  my  maouth  an'  let  the  moon 
shine  into  't.  It's  hard,  all  on  't  ;  you  can't  suds  a  pint 
on  't  with  a  barrel  o'  soap  !  But  I'm  a-gittin'  use  to  't  an' 
the's  a  brook  back  here  'at  dreens  the  snow  aoutin  the 
woods  that  you'll  find  toll' able  satisfyin'  'f  you  drink  te\v 
three  pailfulson  't.  Me  'n'  Antwine  goes  over  once  a  day 
reg'lar  an'  fills  up.  Draw  up  !"  he  continued,  seating 
himself  beside  the  slab,  "  draw  up,  Peltier,  an'  make  yer- 
self  tu  hum  an'  help  yerself.  The'  might  be  better,  an' 
the'  is  wus.  You've  got  to  wait  an'  eat  to  the  secont  table, 
Drive,  'i  you  be  comp'ny,"  and  the  hound,  who  had  been 
wistfully  regarding  the  setting  of  the  table,  crept  into  the 
shanty  and  curled  down  on  a  buffalo  skin,  and  watched 
the  progress  of  the  meal  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

When  they  were  ready  to  start,  Sam  down  stream,  An- 
toine  up  stream,  leaving  Pelatiah  to  wander  at  his  will 
along  the  safe  and  stable  shore,  the  sun  was  rising  above 
the  mist  and  glorifying  it,  transmuting  the  gray  vapor  into 
a  long  sun-glade  of  floating  gold  that  stretched  from  the 
hills  to  them.  The  night  had  been  such  a  mild  and  dark 
one  as  the  muskrats  delight  to  go  abroad  in  upon  their 
affairs,  and  Sam  found  in  his  traps  many  a  poor  fellow 


3 8  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

whose  wooings  and  nightly  wandering  had  been  ended  for 
ever  since  the  last  sunset.  He  was  pushing  his  canoe 
among  the  trees  and  water  brush  that  stood  ankle  deep  in 
the  shallow  water,  when  he  heard  another  boat  scraping 
the  bushes  along  its  course,  the  rubbing  of  the  setting  pole 
on  its  side,  and  presently  the  form  of  a  man  appeared  glid 
ing  over  the  water,  upheld  by  some  invisible  buoyant 
agency,  which  was  revealed  when  a  light  skiff  emerged  from 
a  thicket  of  button  bushes.  Sam  at  once  recognized  the 
occupant  of  the  little  craft  as  the  one  who  had  made  such 
a  vigorous  protest  against  their  trapping  here,  and  the  sal 
utation  that  he  received  left  him  in  no  doubt  that  this  was 
Antoine's  reviler. 

"  Hello,  Gum  Chawer  !  Praowlin'  'raound  on  my 
trappin'  graound  yit,  be  ye  ?"  the  man  shouted,  as  if  Sam 
had  been  a  mile  away.  "  Say,  hain't  ye  got  a  chaw  o' 
gum  to  give  a  feller  this  mornin'  ?" 

"  Yes/'  Sam  answered  very  quietly,  turning  the  canoe 
toward  the  skiff ;  "  tew  on  'em  'i  ye  want." 

When  the  gunwales  of  the  two  boats  touched,  the  stout 
man  regarded  the  tall  mountaineer  with  a  puzzled  half  grin, 
for  there  was  a  queer  look  in  Sam's  eyes,  not  quite  in  keep 
ing  with  his  apparently  friendly  movements.  They  came 
abreast,  and  Sam  rose  to  his  feet,  let  go  his  hold  of  the  pad 
dle  with  his  right  hand,  fronted  the  quarrelsome  pre-emptor 
of  the  marshes,  and  quick  as  thought  dealt  him  a  sound 
ing  fisticuff  full  in  the  face,  knocking  him  sprawling  over 
board  and  nearly  capsizing  his  skiff.  The  fallen  foeman 
floundered  to  his  feet  in  the  hip-deep  water,  and  sputtering 
out  mixed  oaths  and  water,  splashed  toward  his  antago 
nist,  who  was  balancing  himself  in  the  canoe,  that  rocked 
violently  from  the  recoil  of  his  blow. 


SA M  LOVEL  S   CAMPS,  39 

"  If  you  come  anigh  me,"  Sam  said,  raising  his  paddle 
for  a  two-handed  stroke,  "  I'll  knock  ye  gaily  west  !"  and 
the  man  halted,  doubting  whether  it  was  better  to  incur 
the  execution  of  so  dire  a  threat,  or  to  retreat.  "  Naow," 
Sam  continued,  seeing  that  his  enemy  showed  little  dispo 
sition  to  renew  his  hostilities,  "  'i  you've  got  what  gum 
you  wanter  chaw  tu-day,  wade  ashore  an'  I'll  shove  yer 
boat  tu  ye. ' ' 

The  cold  water  had  well-nigh  quenched  his  valor,  if  not 
his  anger,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation  and  one  more 
look  at  the  still  upraised  paddle,  the  man  turned  sullenly 
and  swashed  his  way  slowly  to  the  nearest  land.  The  vic 
tor  in  this  little  naval  encounter,  seeing  the  vanquished 
crew  safely  landed,  set  about  getting  the  water- logged  craft 
into  port,  and  with  no  little  trouble  accomplished  it. 

"  Naow,"  he  said,  as  if  advising  an  unfortunate  and  mis 
guided  friend,  "  if  I  was  you,  I'd  empty  the  water  aouten 
my  boat  'n'  my  boots  'n'  my  gun,  V  wring  aout  my 
close,  'n'  go  up  to  aour  shanty  'n'  build  up  a  good  fire 
'n'  dry  aout.  'N'  then,  'f  1  was  you,  I'd  kinder  'tend  tu 
my  own  consarns,  an'  not  be  tu  sassy  tu  folks  'at's  a- 
'tendin'  tu  theirn." 

To  this  hospitable  offer  and  wholesome  advice  the  soaked 
trapper  made  no  reply,  but  sat  down  on  a  log  and  attempt 
ed  to  pull  off  his  boots.  They  were  as  perverse  as  wet 
boots  ever  were,  and  yielded  no  more  to  the  owner's  des 
perate  tugs  than  to  the  accompanying  contortions  of  his 
visage,  his  grunts,  and  explosive  curses. 

"  Gi'  me  a  holt  on  em',"  Sam  said,  stepping  ashore, 
and  without  waiting  for  one  of  them  to  be  held  forth, 
seized  the  nearest  stubborn  boot  and  began  pulling  at  it. 
The  unhappy  wearer  slid  off  his  seat,  his  backbone  grated 


40  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

over  the  log,  and  he  grasped  wildly  for  some  anchorage  on 
sedges,  brush,  and  saplings,  while  his  body  ploughed  a  broad 
black  furrow  in  the  mat  of  last  year's  leaves,  and  yet  he 
said  not  a  word. 

"  VVal  !"  Sam  puffed,  stopping  while  both  took  breath, 
"  it  does  stick  onaccaountable  !  If  ye  won't  kick,  I'll  give 
ye  a  bootjack  ?" 

The  man  shook  his  head,  and  Sam  turning  his  back  to 
him  took  the  boot  between  his  legs,  grasping  it  at  heel  and 
toe  while  the  other  set  the  free  foot  against  him,  and  after 
a  short  struggle  the  boot  came  off,  and  in  the  same  way  its 
mate  soon  followed  it. 

'  There,  I  guess  you  c'n  git  the  rest  o'  your  duds  off 
alone,  an'  'smebby  you're  kinder  modest,  I'll  clear  aout." 
Sam  stepped  into  his  canoe  and  pushed  off.  His  recently 
aggressive  acquaintance,  still  sitting  on  the  ground  and 
beginning  to  fumble  at  his  buttons,  looked  after  him  and 
said  at  last  :  "  Wai,  I  swear  !  you're  the  curiest  cuss  ever 
/see  ;  but  I  guess  you' re  white.  I  do'  know  as  I  can  say 
that  I'm  much  'bleeged  tu  ye — but  you  can  trap  an'  be 
darned  for  all  I  care." 

"I'm  a-goin'  to  trap,"  Sam  said,  and  went  his  way. 
He  made  the  round  of  his  traps,  and  at  noon  was  at  camp, 
where  he  found  Antoine  returned  and  getting  dinner. 
Pelatiah  soon  came  in  triumphantly  bearing  by  the  gills  a 
huge  uncouth  fish  with  a  wide  mouth,  eyes  like  a  pig's, 
coarse  yellowish-brown  scales,  and  a  rounded  caudal  fin 
that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  trimmed  to  match  the  contour 
of  the  thick  clumsy  tail.  Holding  up  his  prize  at  arm's 
length  for  them  to  admire,  he  said,  "  Wha'  d'ye  think  o' 
that  for  a  mornin's  work  ?"  then  laying  it  down  tenderly 
and  kneeling  before  it,  "  Supper  'n'  breafus'  !  wish  I'd 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  41 

a-brung  it  hum  time  ernough  for  dinner.  My  maouth  is 
a-waterin'  for  a  taste  on  't.  Oh,  'f  I  hain't  hed  fun  alive  ! 
I  was  a-pokin'  'long  the  bank  over  yunder,  'ri  I  seen  a 
big  wake  scootin'  off,  'n'  then  I  seen  him  'baout  twenty 
feet  off  a-moggin'  'long  kinder  easy,  's  'f  he  didn't  care  a 
darn  for  all  creation — an',  sir,  I  drawed  up  'n'  let  'im  hev, 
ker-bim  !  an'  he  rolled  tother  side  up  'n'  lay  just  as  still  ! 
'N'  I  was  a-lookin'  'raound  for  a  pole  or  suthin'  tu  claw 
him  tow- ward  me,  an',  sir,  he  begin  to  wriggle  'n'  flop, 
'n'  I  just  dropped  my  gun  'n'  in  arter  him  clean  up  to 
my  crotch,  an',  sir,  I  got  him,  'n'  ain't  he  an  ol' 
sollaker?  I  wish  tu  gracious,"  bending  over  the  fish 
and  caressingly  arranging  the  fins — "  I  wish  tu  gracious  I'd 
ha'  brung  him  time  enough  ;  wouldn't  we  ha'  hed  a 
dinner  !" 

"  You  ant  wan'  be  sorry  for  dat,  Peltiet, "  Antoinesaid, 
with  suppressed  laughter  twinkling  in  his  eyes  and  almost 
bursting  out  all  over  his  face  ;  "  he  be  jus'  good  for  dinny 
nex'  week  as  las'  week,  prob'ly  better.  Ah  dunno  'f  he 
ant  he  don'  be  no  wusser,  sartin. " 

"  What  kind  of  a  durned  critter  is  it,  Antwine  ?"  Sam 
asked,  after  examining  it  closely  ;  "  I  never  see  no  sech  a 
fish!" 

"  Feesh  !"  cried  the  Canadian.  "  Dat  ting  don't  feesh  ! 
Dat  bow-fins. ' ' 

"  Why,  Antwine,"  Pelatiah  asked,  the  happiness  fading 
out  of  his  face,  "  hain't  he  good  tu  eat  ?" 

"  Heat !"  he  said  with  disgust.  "  Bah  gosh  !  he  don't 
no  more  good  for  heat  you  was  !  No,  seh,  no  more  as 
you  boot.  Ah  dunno  what  he  was  be  mek  for  only  feel 
up  de  water.  You  was  bring  heem  here  for  heat  ?  Oh, 
Peltiet !  dat  too  fun  for  me  !"  and  he  laughed  loud  and  long. 


42  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

"  Wai,"  Pelatiah  said  with  a  sigh  of  resignation,  as  the 
visions  of  glory  and  feasts  vanished,  "  I  hed  fun  a-gittin' 
on  him,  an'  he  is  a  reg'lar  ol'  sollaker,  anyway." 

"  Come,"  said  Sam,  "  le's  eat  an'  be  off,  an'  see  'f  we 
can't  git  a  fish  'at  Antwine  Ml  'prove  on — a  mud  turkle, 
f'r  instance — he  eats  them  riptiles  !" 

"Mud  turkey!"  the  Canadian  said,  stopping  halfway 
from  the  fire  to  the  slab  with  the  smoking  frying  pan  in 
his  left  hand  and  raising  his  right  impressively,  "  Bah 
gosh  !  seh,  you  give  it  me  mud  turkey,  Ah  show  you  some 
soups  mek  you  wish  dis  worl'  was  big  mud  turkey,  an'  de 
sky  was  tip  over  for  one  big  kittly  for  bile  heem  in,  an' 
you  was  sit  on  aidge  an'  heat  dem  soup  wid  moon  for 
spoon,  more  as  tousan'  year  !  yes,  seh  !" 

Then  they  fell  to,  and  contenting  themselves  with  such 
fare  as  they  had,  were  soon  ready  to  set  forth. 


V. 

SHOOTING   PICKEREL. 

SAM  and  Antoine  were  to  embark  in  the  log  canoe, 
while  Pelatiah,  still  mistrusting  the  treacherous  deep,  was 
to  hunt  along  shore,  following  the  directions  of  the  experi 
enced  Canadian.  But  first  he  pulled  off  his  trousers  and 
socks,  which  he  wrung  out  and  hung  by  the  fire.  Con 
sidering  the  chances  of  another  bath,  he  debated  a  little 
whether  he  would  not  better  go  forth  bare-legged,  but  at 
last  concluded,  for  the  sake  of  seemliness  and  convenience, 
to  put  on  a  pair  of  trousers  that  he  hauled  out  of  the  depths 
of  the  carpet-bag. 

The  sun  shone  with  almost  summer-like  fervor  on  the 
flat,  wooded  shore  and  clear,  still  shallows,  where  every 
sodden  leaf  and  weed  and  sunken  stick  upon  the  bottom 
was  revealed.  The  first  frogs  were  sunning  themselves  on 
the  fringe  of  floating  and  stranded  last  year's  rushes  that 
bordered  the  water,  and  on  every  side  their  crackling  pur 
arose,  as  continuous,  if  not  as  loud,  as  the  thronging 
blackbirds'  incessant  clamor,  a  medley  of  sweet  and  harsh 
notes,  like  the  gurgle  of  brooks  and  the  slow  drip  of  water 
into  echoing  pools,  with  the  grating  and  clatter  and  sharp 
click  of  pebbles  tossed  upon  rocks.  As  Pelatiah  slowly 
walked  along  the  shore,  at  almost  every  step  a  frog  startled 
him,  scurrying  over  the  weeds  with  spasmodic  leaps  and 
splashing  into  the  water.  Then  a  shadow  flitted  before 


44  SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS. 

him,  and  looking  up,  he  saw  a  great  hawk  wheeling  in  a 
wide  circle  overhead,  his  wings  golden  brown  with  the  sun 
light  shining  through  them. 

"A  hen  hawk  's  better'n  nothin'  tu  show,"  he  said, 
cocking  his  gun,  and  taking  a  slow  upright  aim.  He  was 
standing  almost  in  the  water  with  his  back  toward  it,  and 
the  hawk's  course  tending  behind  him,  he  was  leaning 
backward  to  the  utmost  of  his  balance  when  he  fired,  and 
the  recoil  of  the  gun  set  him  down  with  a  sudden  splash 
that  awed  all  the  neighboring  frogs  into  silence.  After 
scrambling  to  his  feet  he  cast  a  quick  glance  about  him 
while  the  returning  pellets  of  shot  were  yet  raining  down, 
to  see  if  any  one  had  witnessed  his  mishap,  then  one  in 
search  of  the  hawk.  The  bird  was  still  circling  undis 
turbed  in  a  great  upward  spiral,  and  becoming  a  fleck  of 
brown  against  the  blue.  "  Wet  agin  !  an'  not  so  much  as 
a  bow  fin  tu  show  for  't  !  I  might  ha'  knowed  better'n  tu 
shot.  I  couldn't  hit  a  tevv-storey  haouse  a-flyin'.  But 
I  kep'  my  gun  dry,  'n'  who  cares?  That  'ere  hen  hawk 
don't,  sartin. "  So  embracing  the  nearest  tree,  he  emptied 
the  water  out  of  his  boots,  then  reloaded  his  gun  and  went 
forward.  The  wetting  of  his  nether  parts  being  now  ac 
complished  and  not  to  be  dreaded,  he  was  no  longer 
"cat-footed,"  but  waded  slowly  and  cautiously  to  every 
likely  looking  place,  resembling,  as  he  craned  his  long 
neck  and  scanned  the  water  near  him,  some  enormous 
heron  seeking  his  prey.  A  slight  commotion  of  the  surface 
attracted. his  attention,  and  warily  approaching  the  spot,  he 
saw  the  back  fin  and  tail  of  some  large  fish  gently  moving. 
"  Bow-fin  or  no  bow  fin,  I' 11  try  ye,"  he  whispered  to  him 
self,  and  remembering  Antoine's  last  injunction  to  shoot 
at  a  fish  "  way  under  where  he  was,"  he  blazed  away. 


SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS.  45 

Before  the  boil  of  the  water  had  subsided  he  saw  the  white 
bellies  of  two  motionless  fish  shining  out  of  the  bubbles 
and  disturbed  sediment,  and  splashing  to  them  he  plunged 
his  arm  in  to  the  elbow  and  seized  the  largest,  and  tucking 
it  under  his  left  arm,  grabbed  the  other.  Just  then  he  saw 
another  that  had  been  stunned  by  his  shot,  feebly  writhing 
its  fins  and  evidently  gathering  wits  and  strength  for  a 
speedy  departure.  How  to  secure  it  with  one  fish  in  his 
right  hand,  his  gun  in  his  left,  and  another  fish  hugged 
under  that  arm  was  a  question  that  he  speedily  solved  by 
seizing  his  right-hand  fish  by  the  tail  with  his  teeth.  But 
the  free  fish,  the  largest  of  the  three,  had  now  recovered, 
and  as  he  reached  for  it,  slipped  through  his  fingers,  and 
with  a  great  surge  disappeared,  leaving  only  its  slime  in 
his  grasp.  After  one  longing,  regretful  look,  he  waded 
ashore  with  his  prizes,  and  depositing  them  at  a  safe  dis 
tance  from  the  water,  sat  down  upon  a  log  and  gloated 
over  them,  stretching  them  to  their  fullest  length,  arranging 
their  fins,  then  turning  them  over,  then  "  hefting"  them 
separately  and  together.  They  were  of  about  five  pounds 
weight  each,  and  most  undeniably  pickerel,  the  fish  of  all 
that  the  mountaineer  prizes  most,  in  spite  of  his  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  clean,  gamy,  beautiful,  and  tooth 
some  trout  of  his  native  streams  and  ponds.  His  admira 
tion  of  this  shark  of  the  lowland  fresh  waters  has  spoiled 
the  trout  fishing  in  many  a  mountain  lakelet,  where  the 
survival,  not  of  the  fittest,  but  of  the  biggest,  the  hungriest, 
and  most  fecund  has  been  proved  by  the  introduction  of 
this  alien. 

In  possession  of  the  largest  pickerel  he  had  ever  seen, 
and  that  of  his  own  taking,  Pelatiah  had  never  felt  more 
completely  happy.  If  the  day  had  been  cold,  the  glow  of 


46  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

pride  and  happiness  would  have  kept  the  wet  clothes  from 
chilling  him  ;  in  the  genial  sunshine  of  this  most  perfect 
of  early  spring  days,  he  scarcely  felt  that  his  boots  were  full 
of  water,  that  he  was  soaked  and  sodden  to  the  waist.  He 
heard,  but  only  noticed  as  a  pleasant  accompaniment  to 
his  inward  song  of  thanksgiving,  the  frequent  roll  of  the 
partridges'  muffled  drums  far  and  near  in  the  woods  ; 
hardly  wondered  what  unseasonable  game  Drive  had  afoot 
where  he  was  making  the  woods  resound  with  lazy  echoes 
of  his  sonorous  voice.  Guns  were  booming  all  along  the 
shores — the  thin  report  of  rifles  spitting  out  their  light 
charges,  the  bellow  of  muskets  belching  out  their  four 
fingers  of  powder,  tow  wads,  and  *'  double  B's,"  and  giv 
ing  one's  shoulder  a  sympathetic  twinge  as  he  thought  how 
the  shooter's  must  be  aching — all  proclaimed  that  it  was  a 
sad  day  for  the  pickerel  that  had  come  on  to  Little  Otter's 
marshes  to  spawn.  Probably  not  one  man  of  the  fifty  who 
were  hunting  them  there  had  a  thought  of  what  the  fish 
were  there  for,  or  would  have  cared  if  he  had.  There 
were  too  many  pickerel,  and  always  would  be.  There 
could  be  no  exhaustion  of  the  supply  of  them  nor  of  any 
other  fish.  Any  proposition  to  protect  fish  and  game  of 
any  kind,  to  prescribe  any  method  of  taking,  to  limit  the 
season  of  killing,  would  have  been  thought  an  attempt  to 
introduce  hated  Old  World  laws  and  customs.  Hunting 
and  fishing  were  the  privileges  of  every  freeborn  American  ; 
to  use  or  abuse  whenever,  wherever,  and  however  he  was 
disposed.  And  he  could  not  live  long  enough  to  see  the 
end  of  it,  for  why  should  there  not  always  be  fish  and 
game  as  innumerable  in  all  these  unnumbered  acres  of 
water  and  marsh  and  woods  ?  Alas  !  why  not  ? 

A  nearer  shot,  that  seemed  the  familiar  voice  of   the 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  47 

"  Ore  Bed,"  caused  Pelatiah  to  peer  among  the  tree  trunks 
in  its  direction,  and  he  saw  the  log  canoe  not  far  away  and 
one  of  its  crew  taking  something  from  the  water  with  a 
sheen  of  scales  and  drip  of  sparkling  drops.  At  first  he 
had  a  mind  to  hail  them,  learn  their  luck  and  proclaim 
his  own,  but  on  second  thought  he  felt  that  there  would 
be  more  glory  in  surprising  them  on  their  return  to  camp 
with  the  actual,  unimpeachable  proof  of  his  success.  So 
after  watching  them  out  of  sight,  he  cut  the  brightest 
blood-red  osier  twig  he  could  find  and  strung  his  fish  upon 
it,  though  with  the  feeling  that  a  silver  cord  would  more 
befit  their  worth  and  beauty.  Then  he  reloaded  his  gun 
with  a  most  generous  charge  in  consideration  of  its  recent 
good  service,  and  went  on  in  search  of  new  conquests,  his 
boots  chuckling  at  every  step  in  their  lining  of  water,  as  if 
they,  too,  were  rejoicing  in  his  triumph.  He  soon  saw 
where  a  fish  was  ' '  playing' '  at  some  little  distance  from 
the  shore,  and  working  carefully  toward  it  under  cover  of 
an  insular  stump,  he  gained  that  coigne  of  vantage,  and 
stood  with  unstable  footing  on  its  roots  when  he  saw  the 
fish  within  short  range  and  fired  at  it.  The  recoil  of  the 
heavy  charge  pushed  him  a  step  backward,  his  foot  caught 
in  a  root,  and  over  he  toppled  at  full  length  with  a  gasping 
grunt  and  a  splash  that  drove  an  upward  shower  of  water 
drops  into  the  lower  branches  of  the  trees.  He  hardly 
waited  to  regain  his  feet  before  he  scrambled  to  the  place 
where  he  had  last  seen  the  fish.  And  there  it  was,  mo 
tionless,  belly  up  and  bigger  than  those  he  had  on  his 
string  !  He  thought  as  he  slipped  the  osier  through  the 
gills  and  viciously  toothed  great  jaws  that  he  had  suffered 
none  too  much  for  such  a  reward,  that  he  would  rather 
have  been  put  to  soak  in  the  Slang  for  an  hour  than  to 


48  SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS. 

have  lost  it.  When  he  became  fully  possessed  with  the 
sense  of  his  exploit,  he  could  not  withhold  a  triumphant 
yell,  so  discordant  and  so  unlike  any  voice  the  distant 
shooters  had  ever  heard,  that  a  report  soon  after  became 
current  of  "a  painter  a-hengin'  'raound  in  the  Slang 
woods." 

His  gun  was  wet  now,  and  he  had  only  wet  tow  to  swab 
it  with,  and  though  the  powder  was  dry  in  his  horn,  the  lit 
tle  paper  box  of  caps  with  a  lot  of  foreign  lingo  printed  on 
the  green  cover  around  the  prominent  letters  "  G.  D.'y 
(which  some  took  to  be  abbreviated  profanity)  was  satu 
rated  almost  to  pulpiness.  But  he  must  try  once  more, 
and  so  he  wrung  out  a  handful  of  tow  and  swabbed  the 
gun  from  complete  wetness  to  moderate  dampness,  poured 
in  a  handful  of  powder  and  rammed  down  upon  it  a  wad 
that  needed  no  chewing  to  moisten  it,  emptied  in  his  last 
charge  of  shot,  wadded  that,  and  placed  a  forlorn  hope  of 
a  cap  that  he  had  blown  the  water  out  of  on  the  nipple,  in 
which  not  a  grain  of  powder  showed.  "  Nothin'  like  try- 
in'/'  Pelatiah  said  hopefully,  and,  mooring  his  fish  in  a 
safe  puddle,  he  went  to  where  a  great  mossy  log  reached 
far  out  into  inviting  waters.  He  worked  his  way  with 
careful  steps  along  it,  crouching  under  overhanging 
branches  that  he  steadied  himself  by,  and  looking  sharply 
on  either  side.  A  basking  turtle  slipped  off  the  outer  end, 
and  the  splash  of  his  sudden  immersion  startled  a  fish,  that 
came  with  a  great  arrowy  wake  a  little  out  from  and  paral 
lel  with  the  log.  Watching  the  point  of  it,  Pelatiah  saw 
in  the  amber  shallows  the  great  savage  head  and  long 
blotched  sides  of  one  of  the  monster  pickerel  of  the  marshes, 
slowing  up  just  against  him.  His  heart  almost  stood  still 
as  he  put  his  gun  to  his  yet  aching  shoulder.  Whispering 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS,  49 

to  it  inwardly,  "  You  won't  sarve  me  sech  a  dummed  caper 
agin,"  he  leaned  far  forward  to  counterbalance  the  expect 
ed  recoil  and  pulled  the  trigger  with  might  and  main. 
The  striker  fell  on  the  wet  cap  with  a  dull,  flat  click,  and 
too  late  aware  of  a  misfire  to  recover  his  balance,  he  went 
sprawling  into  the  water,  the  gun  slanting  breech  up  with 
the  muzzle  stuck  a  foot  deep  in  the  soft  bottom.  The 
frightened  fish  made  almost  as  great  a  commotion  in  get 
ting  out  of  the  dangerous  precinct,  at  the  first  dash  nearly 
stranding  itself  on  the  weedy  slope  of  the  shore,  then 
struggling  well  afloat  again,  making  a  wild  dash  through  a 
tangle  of  bushes  that  made  their  tops  shiver  along  his  course, 
then  surging  into  the  open  water  and  departing  with  a 
wake  like  a  boat's.  Pelatiah  got  upon  his  feet,  and,  pull 
ing  his  gun  out  of  the  mud,  waded  ashore.  "  The's  one 
goldarned  comfort  'baout  it,"  he  said  aloud,  as  he  turned 
and  sadly  surveyed  the  yet  troubled  waters,  "the'  wa'n't 
nobuddy  seen  me  a-kerwollopin'  in  there  like  a  fool,  'n' 
I  don't  care  !" 

"  Waal,"  said  a  nasal  voice  not  three  rods  away,  "  that 
'ere  was  a  consid'able  of  a  splotteration-ah  !"  There  was 
a  kind  of  grunt  at  the  end  of  the  speaker's  sentence,  as  if 
his  overcharge  of  words  kicked. 

Turning  his  astonished  and  abashed  face,  the  young  fel 
low  saw  a  tall  raw-boned  man  regarding  him  with  a  grin, 
whether  serious  or  mirthful,  it  was  hard  to  decide. 
"  That  'ere  was  an  all  termutable  big  pick'ril-ah.  I  wish 
t'  land  o'  massy  I'd  ha'  got  here  fust-ah  !  I'd  ha'  got 
him,  an'  you'd  ha'  lost  him-ah  !  But  that's  allus  my 
pleggy  durned  luck — somebody  er  'nother  a-gittin'  in 
'head  on  me  an'  a  takin'  the  bread  right  outen  my 
mouth-ah  !" 


50  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

"  Kinder  seems  's  'ough  we'd  both  on  us  lost  him," 
Pelatiah  said,  picking  up  his  string  of  fish  and  making 
ready  to  depart.  The  late  comer  strode  to  him,  and  snatch 
ing  the  string  from  his  hand  and  holding  it  close  to  his 
nose,  slowly  turned  the  fish  one  way  and  another,  as  he 
critically  examined  them. 

"  Honh  !  waal,"  with  a  half-contemptuous  snort, 
"you've  had  sorter  half-way  decent  luck-ah.  Them's 
middlin'  decent  sized  fish — wuth  carr'in'  hum  'f  you 
ha' n't  had  no  fish  t'  eat  this  year-ah."  Pelatiah  was  be 
ginning  to  hate  him.  "  But-ah,"  returning  the  fish  to  the 
owner  as  if  they  were  worth  no  further  notice,  "you've 
got  a'  orfle  sozzlin'  tu  pay  for  what  you  got  an'  ha'n'tgot- 
ah,  an'  you'd  orter  go  right  straight  hum  an'  git  some  dry 
close  on  'f  you've  got  any-ah.  It  is  driffle  onhealthy 
a-gittin'  wet  so  \vi'  your  close  on-ah.  Like  's  not  you'll 
have  the  rheumatiz — er  chills — mebby  it'll  set  ye  inter 
fev'n'aag'  ;  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite-ah.  Naow,  take  it 
in  summer,  'n'  I  luffter  onstrip  an'  go  in  under  the  dam 
't  the  Holler  an'  shaower  off  'n'  then  take  a  head  dive  int' 
the  pawnd,  'n'  turn  the  circ'lation  o'  the  blood  tother 
way — it  makes  a  feller  feel  so  neat-ah  !  But  this 
traipsin'  'raound  in  your  wet  close  is  tur'ble  bad-ah  !  I 
wouldn' t  git  wet  's  you  be  for  four  dollars  'n'  seventy-five 
cents  ah  !  Where  'baouts  du  ye  live  when  you're  t'  hum, 
anyway  ?' ' 

"  Up  tu  Danvis,"  Pelatiah  answered. 

"  Tu  Dan-vis  !"  the  man  exclaimed  ;  "  you  don't  say 
so  ?  It's  as  much  as  twenty  mild  off-ah  !  Waal,  'f  you've 
got  tu  go  clearn  away  there  'ith  yer  wet  close  on,  you'll 
hafter  hoof  it  tarnal  smart  t'  git  hum  'fore  you're  sick, 
'n'  ye  can't  lug  them  fish  'n'  yer  gun-ah.  You'll  wanter 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  51 

keep  yer  gun,  I  s'pose,  though  'tain't  much  to  look  at, 
but  I'll  take  yer  fish  'f  you  don't  wanter  heave  'em  away- 
ah  lf> 

Pelatiah  would  as  cheerfully  have  given  him' his  heart  as 
those  precious  fish.  "  'Bleeged  tu  ye  ;  they're  little  bits 
o'  fellers,  'n'  I  guess  I  c'n  kerry  'em,"  he  said  rather 
sarcastically,  declining  the  generous  offur,  "fur  's  I'm 
goin'.  I  got  some  folks  a-campin'  up  yunder,"  nodding 
in  the  direction  of  the  "  pallis." 

"  O-ah  !"  with  a  tone  of  disappointment.  "Waal, 
you'd  better  go  an'  dry  off  's  soon  's  ye  can-ah.  I  didn't 
come  a-huntin',"  glancing  at  the  ancient  musket  he  held 
in  his  hand,  "  I  come  a-lookin'  arter  some  rhuts  't  I  want- 
ah.  My  womern  she's  a  fee-male  doctor,  messmericle. 
My  brother,  Job,  Junyer,  he  gives  her  the  in-flew-ence  'n' 
puts  her  to  sleep.  'N'  then  she  can  look  right  inter  yer 
insides  an'  read  'em  just  like  a  book-ah.  Terms,  half  a 
dollar  for  examernation,  one  dollar  for  proscription,  cash 
on  delivery-ah.  Sleepin'  Sairy,  probably  you've  hearn 
tell  on  her." 

Pelatiah  was  obliged  to  confess  that  he  had  never  heard 
of  this  supernaturally  gifted  woman,  and  turning  away  went 
toward  camp  as  his  new  acquaintance  muttered  something 
about  "  onenlighted  critters."  Casting  a  look  behind,  he 
saw  him  walking  carefully  out  along  a  log,  with  his  gun  at 
a  ready,  and  wondered  what  kind  of  roots  he  could  be  in 
search  of.  Pelatiah' s  heart  was  not  entirely  regenerate,  and 
perhaps  just  then  nothing  would  have  gladdened  it  more 
than  to  have  seen  the  disparager  of  his  luck  make  a  "  splot- 
teration"  such  as  he  had  suffered. 

Arrived  at  camp,  he  made  a  complete  change  of  raiment, 
and  was  toasting  himself  in  great  contentment  by  the  re- 


52  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

plenished  fire  when,  late  in  the  afternoon,  his  companions 
returned.  He  had  thought  of  dressing  his  fish,  but  it 
seemed  too  bad  to  take  even  a  scale  from  them  before  his 
friends  had  seen  them  in  their  entireness.  How  he  wished 
that  he  might  display  them  on  the  store  steps  at  Danvis 
and  tell  the  story  of  their  capture,  with  judicious  omis 
sions,  to  the  admiring  audience  of  evening  loungers.  His 
pride  was  somewhat  brought  down  when  he  saw  the  dozen 
or  more  big  fellows  that  Sam  and  Antoine  tossed  out  of 
the  canoe,  but  still  he  felt  that  he  had  done  well,  for  a 
boy,  and  his  friends  gave  him  generous  praise. 

Antoine  dragged  a  slab  to  the  water's  edge,  and  seating 
himself  a-straddle  of  it,  slapped  a  large  fish  upon  it  in 
front  of  himself,  which  he  forthwith  set  about  cleaning, 
while  Sam  and  Pelatiah  squatted  close  by  and  watched  the 
process.  "  You  wan'  scratch  it,  scratch  it,  dem  peekrils 
great  many,"  he  instructed  them  out  of  the  shower  of  scales 
he  set  flying.  "  Den  w'en  you'll  pull  off  all  hees  shell  off 
of  it,  you  wan'  wash  heem  plenty — wash  an'  scratch — so  !" 
and  he  doused  the  scaled  fish  in  the  water,  scraping  it  with 
his  knife  and  washing  it,  over  and  over  again,  till  the  skin 
was  quite  white  and  free  from  a  suspicion  of  slime. 
"  Somebody  he  ant'  more  as  half  scratch  off  peekril  clean 
'nough,  den  he  cook  it,  an'  he  ant  tas'  good  of  it,  den 
he' 11  said,  '  dat  peekrils,  he  don't  fit  for  be  decent  !  '  Bah 
gosh  !  Ah  show  you,  me  !"  Then  he  split  the  fish  down 
the  back,  cut  off  the  head,  took  out  what  he  called  the 
"inroads,"'  washed  it  again,  and  cut  it  into  convenient 
pieces  for  the  frying  pan.  When  he  had  tried  the  fat  out 
of  a  couple  of  slices  of  salt  pork  and  set  the  fish  to  hiss:ng 
in  the  pan  with  the  bubbling  accompaniment  of  the  potato 
kettle,  an  odor  so  savory  pervaded  the  atmosphere  of  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  53 

camp  that  it  made  the  mouths  of  the  hungry  men  water, 
and  the  minutes  of  waiting  for  supper  seem  like  slow  hours 
of  starvation.  The  fragrance  of  it  was  wafted  to  the  nos 
trils  of  a  wood-chopper  half  a  mile  away,  and  so  aroused 
the  sacred  rage  of  hunger  within  him,  that  he  was  forced  to 
shoulder  his  axe  and  go  home  to  an  early  supper. 

Antoine  set  the  potato  kettle  on  the  board,  and  lifting  the 
frying  pan  from  the  coals,  with  his  hat  for  a  holder,  set 
it  there  also  and  announced  supper.  "  Goo' by,  M'sieu 
Cochon  ;  goo' by,  M'sieu  Mash  Rabbeet ;  how  you  was 
pooty  well,  M'sieu  Peekril  ?  Ah' 11  very  glad  for  see  you 
to-day,  seh  !  Hoorah,  boys  \"  The  bag  of  dry  bread  was 
brought  out,  and  then  the  three  fell  to  work  in  a  silence 
that  was  broken  only  by  grunts  and  sighs  of  satisfaction, 
the  sputtering  out  of  fish  bones,  and  the  clatter  of  the  few 
implements  of  onslaught.  At  the  end  of  it  Antoine  said, 
as  he  prepared  a  charge  for  his  pipe  :  "  Wai,  seh,  boy,  'f 
Ah  always  feel  jes'  Ah  was  naow,  Ah  ant  never  heat  no 
more  !  He  ant  cos'  much  for  mah  boards  den,  don't  it, 
Sam?" 

"  I  expeck,"  Sam  answered,  searching  for  a  grass  stalk 
to  clear  his  pipe-stem,  "  'at  it's  some  wi'  you  as  't  was  wi' 
Brother  Foot  tu  the  pray er-meetin',  '  Brethren  and  sisters,' 
says  he,  '  as  I  feel  naow,  I  wouldn't  take  the  hull  world 
for  the  feelin's  'at  I  feel  !  But,  brethren  and  sisters,  I 
don't  allers  feel  jes'  's  I  feel  naow  !'  ' 

The  sky  had  become  overcast  with  curdly  clouds  except 
a  strip  along  the  horizon,  which  at  sunset  was  a  broad 
belt  of  orange-red  fire  glowing  between  the  dark  gray  clouds 
and  the  blue-black  bastions  of  the  Adirondacks  and  the 
frayed  fringe  of  sombre  woods  ;  and  nearer  than  the 
shadows  of  these,  the  brimming  expanse  of  unruffled  water 


54  SA2\T  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

glowed  with  the  same  intense  color.  When  the  trappers 
crept  into  their  nest,  the  night  was  dark  and  starless  ;  a 
chill  breath  of  northerly  air  was  sighing  in  the  hemlocks, 
and  the  great  owls  were  hooting  a  dolorous  warning  of 
coming  storm.  Listening  to  them,  Sam  remarked  as  he 
made  his  final  yawn  under  the  blankets,  "  Not  much  fun 
nor  profit  for  us  fellers  to-inorrer,  so  the  aowls  sez." 


VI. 

ANTOINE'S   REDOUBTABLE  VICTORY. 

THE  next  day's  dawn  came  with  slow  reluctance  to  dimly 
light  a  dismal  landscape,  over  which  had  come  one  of  those 
disheartening  changes  so  frequent  in  our  northern  latitude 
that  it  seems  strange  they  are  not  expected  as  in  the  com 
mon  course  of  nature,  rather  than  wondered  at  and  spirit 
ually  rebelled  against.  The  succession  of  the  seasons  had 
apparently  been  turned  backward  in  the  gloom  and  mystery 
of  one  night,  and  where  yesterday  spring  was  jubilantly 
triumphant  over  the  reconquest  of  her  realms,  winter  was 
reigning  again.  Snow  had  been  falling  for  an  hour  or 
more,  driven  by  the  north  wind  in  a  long  slant  from  the 
leaden  sky  to  the  earth,  whitening  the  dun  fields  and  turn 
ing  the  brown  and  green  woodlands  to  spectral  gray,  till 
the  trees  looked  like  ghosts  of  the  slain  embodiment  of 
spring.  The  sluggish  waves  of  the  Slang  beat  with  a  sul 
len  wash  on  the  wind-swept  shores,  but  in  the  sheltered 
coves  a  seal  of  leaden  ice  was  set  upon  them.  The  wild 
ducks,  happy  and  content  in  any  weather  that  gave  them 
open  water,  were  splashing  and  diving  and  breasting  the 
black  flood,  but  the  land  birds  were  in  sorry  plight.  They 
huddled  in  the  thickets  for  shelter,  and  if  one  attempted  to 
pipe  a  song,  its  thin,  half-frozen  notes  added  no  cheer  to 
the  day,  but  rather  made  it  the  more  dreary. 

When  Sam  awoke  with  a  dull  sense  of  changed  weather 


56  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

in  his  bones,  and  sat  up  in  his  bed  to  look  abroad,  the 
picture  set  in  the  triangular  frame  of  the  shanty  front,  a 
pointed  bit  of  gray  sky  above  white  fields  and  black  water, 
with  a  foreground  of  snow-laden  bushes,  the  blackened 
stakes,  cross  pole  and  brands  of  the  dead  camp-fire,  was  so 
utterly  cheerless,  that  only  the  desire  of  companionship, 
ever  craved  by  misery,  impelled  him  to  arouse  his  com 
rades.  The  hound  came  stretching  and  yawning  forth, 
and  after  a  sorrowful  look  abroad  and  a  sniff  of  the  damp 
air  gave  a  dolorous  whine,  crept  back  to  his  dark  corner 
to  comfort  himself  with  forgetfulness  of  the  outside  world. 
While  Pelatiah  suffered  in  silence,  with  unworded  wishes 
for  the  comfortable  warmth  of  the  kitchen  stove  at  home, 
Antoine  loudly  denounced  the  meteorological  change. 
"Ah'll  never  see  so  many  kin'  wedder  in  litly  while  all 
ma  life  tarn  !  What  for  he  ant  jus'  well  be  sprim 
wen  he'll  get  all  ready,  jus'  well  as  jomp  raght  back  in 
midlinof  winters  ?  Bah  gosh,  Ah  dunno,  me  !  Wai.  Ah 
don'  care,  Ah  s'pose  we'll  got  have  it  some  fire  on  aour 
stofe,  ant  it?"  and  getting  himself  together  he  began  a 
search,  axe  in  hand,  for  some  dry  kindling.  Chipping 
away  the  weather-beaten  outside  of  an  old  stump,  he  soon 
got  at  its  yellow  heart,  and  with  shavings  and  splinters  of 
it  presently  had  a  cheerful  blaze  lapping  the  snow  and 
dampness  off  the  back- log.  Breakfast  was  hardly  in  prepa 
ration  when  the  snow  turned  to  more  dreary  rain,  that  came 
pelting  down  with  a  dull  patter,  freezing  as  it  fell.  All 
hands  turned  cooks  and  made  frequent  rapid  dashes  from 
the  shanty's  shelter  to  the  sputtering  fire,  one  encouraging 
its  feeble  efforts  with  a  punch  or  a  morsel  of  dry  fuel,  zn- 
olher  giving  the  frying  fish  a  turn  or  a  shake,  another 
snatching  out  of  the  veil  of  smoke  a  hurried  glance  at  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  57 

pot  that  was  fully  possessed  of  the  proverbial  perverseness 
of  watched  pots,  and  stood  long  on  the  order  of  its  boiling. 

When  at  last  patience  was  exhausted  and  hunger  would 
no  longer  be  temporized  with,  they  made  a  sally  and 
brought  in  the  half-cooked  rations.  The  potatoes  seemed 
to  be  suffering  an  epidemic  ossification  of  the  heart,  for 
everyone  had  a  "bone  in  it,"  and  the  fish,  except  the 
outside  and  thinner  parts,  was  raw.  Antoine' s  onions  did 
strong  and  excellent  service  in  helping  out  the  sorry  meal, 
and  when  it  was  got  through  with  the  little  party  settled 
down  to  making  the  best  of  the  discomfort  of  a  rainy  day 
in  camp.  They  related  the  events  of  yesterday  ;  what  be 
fell  Pelatiah  has  already  been  told  in  the  last  chapter,  and 
so  he  told  it  to  his  companions  with  but  few  eliminations, 
for  he  felt  no  unwillingness  now  to  let  them  enjoy  the  fun 
of  his  mishaps,  and  he  with  pride  set  forth  to  the  fullest 
extent  the  dimensions  of  the  big  fish  that  he  had  lost,  a  mon 
ster  that  somehow  seemed  to  belong  to  him  almost  as  com 
pletely  as  if  he  had  captured  him — as  the  big  fish  lost  by  all 
of  us  who  go  a-fishing  are  yet  ours.  Is  it  by  right  of  dis 
covery  that  we  hold  a  sort  of  claim  on  them  ? 

Sam  and  Antoine  had  not  gone  far  on  their  cruise  the 
day  before  when,  as  they  rounded  the  point  between  the 
Slang  and  the  creek  and  floated  slowly  over  the  sunny, 
wooded  shallows,  a  party  of  "  playing"  pickerel  was  sighted 
by  the  Canadian,  who  was  paddling.  Two  or  three  lusty 
fellows  had  the  upper  tips  of  their  tails  and  dorsal  fins 
above  water,  now  gently  moving  them,  now  splashing  about 
in  a  spasmodic  flurry,  then  disappearing  for  a  minute,  then 
breaking  the  surface  in  another  place  near  by.  Antoine 
got  the  canoe  close  to  them  without  alarming  them,  and 
Sam  fired  into  the  thick  of  the  group.  The  Ore  Bed's  big 


58  SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

bullet  made  the  water  boil  and  set  half  a  dozen  swift,  ar 
rowy  wakes  flying  off  in  different  directions  ;  but  that  was 
all.  Not  one  silvery,  upturned  belly  gleamed  out  of  the 
settling  sediment,  and  Antoine  broke  forth  in  lamentations 
and  reproaches.  "  Oh,  sacre  ton  sac  !  Oh,  bah  gosh  ! 
da's  too  bad.  Oh,  you'll  shoot  all  over  it  !  Ant  Ah  tol' 
you  more  as  fo'  honded  tousan  tarn,  wen  you'll  shot  at 
peekril  you  ant  want  shot  at  it,  heiri  ?  You'll  want  shot 
at  it  where  he'll  ant  look  so  'f  he  was  !  Wayonder  where 
you'll  see  it  !  You  don't  can't  rembler  dat,  hein  ?  Bah 
gosh  !  wen  Ah' 11  rip-proach  you  up  to  some  more  of  it,  'f 
you  ant  did  more  better  as  you  was  dat  tarn,  Ah' 11  goin' 
shoot  masef  !" 

"Wai,  Antwine, "  Sam  said  with  a  shamefaced  little 
laugh,  "  I  never  shot  at  one  afore,  'n'  'f  I  don't  du  better 
next  time  you  '  reproach  '  me  up  tu  some  fish,  you  shell 
do  the  shootin'.  ^-proach  !  Oh,  golly  !  wal,  I'll  be 
durn'd  'f  I  s' posed  you'd  lugged  any  o'  Solon  Briggs's  big 
words  all  the  way  daown  here  !"  and  moistening  a  patch 
he  rammed  a  bullet  down  the  long  barrel,  making  the 
grimaces  that  one  who  drives  home  the  ball  in  a  muzzle- 
loading  rifle  always  does,  as  if  his  own  interior  was  suffer 
ing  the  leaden  invasion. 

;<  Wal,  Ah  don't  care,  Sam,  Ah' 11  hit  dat  words  'baout 
so  close  you'll  hit  dat  peekrils,  ant  it?" 

"  Cluster,  Antwine,  cluster,  you  knocked  the  head  right 
off  on  't  I" 

And  so  with  restored  good-humor  they  went  on  till  an 
other  bunch  of  fish  was  sighted  and  got  near  to,  when  Sam, 
aiming  well  under,  "  onhitched."  Four  good-sized  pick 
erel,  some  hit,  some  only  stunned,  rolled  bellies  up  and 
were  got  in  board  before  they  had  thought  of  moving  a 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  59 

fin.  In  such  murderous  fashion,  approved  by  custom  like 
many  another  quite  as  bad,  they  got  all  the  fish  they  cared 
for,  and  met  with  no  mischance  worse  than  one  or  two 
misfires.  When  they  were  homeward  bound  and  both 
paddling  without  change  of  places,  as  they  rounded  a  broad 
patch  of  button  bushes  they  came  suddenly  upon  Sam's 
late  adversary,  poling  his  skiff  slowly  along  and  looking 
for  fish  with  his  gun  lying  in  front  of  him.  His  face  still 
bore  the  imprint  of  Sam's  fist,  but  he  bestowed  upon  them 
a  friendly  grin,  and  hailed  them  with  "  What  luck  ?" 

"  Tol'able,"  Sam  answered,  "  What's  yourn  ?" 

"  The  cussedest  luck  'at  ever  you  see/'  was  the  reply. 
"  My  blasted  ol'  gun  's  missed  twictwhen  I  had  all-killin' 
good  chances,  an'  one  big  one  't  I  rolled  up  got  away  'fore 
I  c'ld  git  a  holt  on  him.  S'pose  'f  I  didn't  want  one  so 
con-demn  bad,  I'd  a-got  a  boat-load.  My  folks  is  sick 
[in  Yankee  parlance  one's  "  folks"  means  his  wife].  No 
appetite  t'  eat,  'n'  nothin'  '11  du  but  a  fish,  an'  I  swear  ! 
I  can't  git  so  much  as  a  punkin  seed  !" 

"  Wai,"  Sam  said,  picking  up  a  good  fish  by  the  gills, 
"  we've  got  more'n  we  c'n  use  'fore  they  spile  ;  take  this 
t'  yer  folks." 

"  Why,  naow, "  said  the  man,  poling  his  skiff  a  stroke 
nearer,  "if 'twan't  jist  as  't  is,  I  wouldn't  think  on  it, 
but  if  you  kin  spare  it  jest  as  well  as  not,  I  'Id  be  a  thaou- 
san'  times  'bleeged  tu  ye,  'cause  Seusan,  she — but,"  stop 
ping  his  craft,  "  I  do'  want  no  more  o'  yer  cussed  gum  !" 

"All  right,"  Sam  answered  with  a  laugh,  "  we  hain't 
a-peddlin'  gum  to-day.  Haul  up  an'  git  yer  fish.""  And 
tossing  it  into  the  skiff,  he  paddled  away,  while  the  recip 
ient  of  the  gift  thanked  him  a  "  thaousan'  times"  and 
profanely  remarked  in  conclusion,  "You  air  the  curiest 


60  SAM   LOVELS   CAMPS. 

man  ever  I  see,  I  swear  !  Say,"  he  shouted  after  them, 
"  you  c'n  come  here  'n'  trap  an'  be  durned  a  thousan' 
years  1" 

While  Sam  was  pondering  as  he  paddled  whether  this 
long  lease  of  privilege  pertained  to  trapping  or  perdition, 
Antoine  interrupted  his  meditations  with  the  question, 
"  What  you  s'pose  mek  dat  mans  so  good  nachel,  Sam  ? 
What  you  s'pose  he'll  got  matter  wid  his  face  of  it  ?  Look 
lak  he  strak  someboddy  wid  it,  ant  it  !" 

"  Oh,  like  'nough  he  knocked  it  agin  a  tree  or  suthin' 
pokin'  'raound  here  'mongst  this  'ere  trash.  An'  he's  got 
over  bein'  mad  'cause  he's  faound  out  't  we're  harmless 
kinder  creeturs." 

"  Dat  all  you'll  know  'baout  it,  Sam  ?"  with  a  crafty, 
inquiring  glance  as  he  leaned  sidewise  to  get  a  look  at  his 
companion's  face.  "  What  mek  it  got  so  clever  so  quick 
aft'  he'll  bruse  bose  of  it  so  hard  ?  Hein  ?" 

"  Oh,  thunder  in  the  winter  !  no,  I  d'  know  nothin' 
'baout  the  man.  Mebby  he's  ben  tu  a  prayer- meetin'  'n' 
'xperenced  a  change  o'  heart." 

"  What  he'll   meant  he  ant  want  some  gaum,  hein  ?" 

"  Hain't  a-hankerin'  arter  it,  1  s'pose.  What  in  time 
du  we  care  's  long  's  he  behaves  hisself  ?  Let  'im  go." 

After  several  minutes  of  silent  paddling  Antoine  asked 
in  a  low,  earnest  voice,  "  Sam,  'f  Ah' 11  tol'  you  some- 
tings,  you  ant  never  tol'  someboddy  long  's  you  leeve,  you 
hope  to  dead  fus'  ?" 

"  Wai,"  Sam  answered  with  deliberation,  "  I  do'  know, 
Antwine  ;  'i  you  ben  a-stealin'  suthin'  or  a-killin'  some- 
b'dy,  I  don't wanter  hev  ye  tell  me  on  't .;  but  'f  it's  some 
little  thing  't  ain't  very  weeked  I  ha'  no  'bjections  to 
promisin'  an'  a-hearin'  on  ''t. " 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  61 

"  Oh,  no-no-no-no  !  Ah  ant  never  steal  notings,  an' 
Ah  ant  never  keel  someboddy  sin  Papineau  war  ;  not  quat  ; 
come  pooty  near  dough  dis  tarn,  but  Ah  ant  keel  it,  do  it 
some  good.  You  ant  tol'  of  it?" 

"  No,  I  won't  tell  ;  ease  your  mind,  Antwine." 

"Wai,  seh,  Sam,"  with  slow  impressiveness,  "what 
hail  dat  man  his  face  of  it,  what  mak'  heem  be  so  good 
nachel,  Ah' 11  goin'  tol'  you,  seh.  Ah' 11  leek  it  dat  man 
tudder  day  !" 

"You  licked  him?  Why,  you  hain't  seen  'im  'fore 
sen  the  day  'at  you  was  tellin'  me  haow  he  sassed  ye  ;  an' 
you  said  then  'at  you  didn't  tech  him,  nor  wouldn't. 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  'baout  your  lickin'  him  then  ?" 

"Wai,  seh,  Ah' 11  tol'  you,  Sam.  You  see,  Ah  was 
'fraid  Ah' 11  keel  him,  Ah' 11  leek  it  so  hard.  Naovv  Ah' 11 
fin'  aout  he  ant  be  dead,  Ah  don'  care  for  tol'  you.  Oh  ! 
bah  gosh  !  Ah' 11  mos'  keel  it.  Ah' 11  keek  it  on  hees  face 
wid  ma  fis'  where  you'll  see  it.  Ah' 11  strak  it  wid  ma 
foots  where  you  ant  see  it.  Ah' 11  paoun'  it,  Ah' 11  mek  it 
hollah,  '  Oh,  don't  hurt  me  some  more.'  Ah' 11  be  so  scare 
all  dat  naght  for  'fraid  he'll  dead.  Ah  ant  mos'  sleep 
any,  seh  !  Yas,  ant  you  hear  it  me  tombly  an'  grunt, 
hein  ?' ' 

Sam  was  shaking,  but  as  Antoine  could  not  see  his 
face,  he  thought  his  agitation  was  perhaps  caused  by 
horror  at  the  recital  of  the  terrific  combat.  Warming  with 
the  Falstaffian  tale,  he  shook  out  a  "  B-o-o-o-h-h-h  !" 
from  his  pursed  lips,  and  shouted,  "  Oh  !  Bah  gosh  ! 
Ah' 11  paoun'  it,  Ah' 11  jomp  top  heem  of  it  !  You  ant 
b'lieve  it,  you  come  'long  to  me,  Ah' 11  show  you  where 
Ah' 11  knock  de  barks  off  de  tree  wid  heem,  an'  de  bloods 
an'  skins  an'  hairs  all  scratter  'raoun'  de  e;raoun'  !" 


62  SAM  LOVEL'  S   CAMPS. 

Sam  was  no  longer  able  to  contain  the  fulness  of  laugh 
ter  that  oppressed  him. 

"  What  you  lafft  at,  Sam  ?"   Antoine  demanded  sternly. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,  suz  !  Antwine,  I  can't  helpa-laughin'  to 
think  what  a  wollopin'  you  give  that  man,  an'  a  slattin'  the 
graound  with  him,  an'  barkin'  trees  with  him  !  What  a 
massy  it  is  you  didn't  kill  the  poor  creeter  !" 

"  Wai,  Ah  tol'  you,  Ah '11  feel  pooty  glad  for  dat,  me. 
Ah'll  ant  wan'  be  hang  for  it.  Say,  Sam,  you  s'pose 
prob'ly  dat  fellar  sue  me  up  to  law  for  leek  heem  so  hard, 
hein  ?" 

"  Wai,  no,  I  don't  hardly  b'lieve  he  will,  Antwine.  I 
guess  he's  hed  all  he  wants  on  ye/' 

"  Wai,  Ah  guess  so." 

11  Come  to  think  on  't  naow,  I  seen  him  the  next  day 
arter  you  give  him  sech  a  whalin',  an'  I  never  noticed  'at 
the'  was  a  thing  the  matter  of  him.  Cur' us,  wa'n't 
it?" 

'You'll  see  it  nex'  day?"  Antoine  asked  anxiously. 
"  Wai,  bah  gosh  !  Ah  dunno  'f  he  ant  show  it ;  prob'ly 
hees  faces  ant  got  tarn  yet  for  swellin'  up  an'  git  blue  an' 
black,  ant  it  ?" 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite  'f  that  was  it,  Antwine." 

This  dismal  day  Antoine  swore  Pelatiah  to  secrecy,  and 
enlivened  an  hour  with  the  acted  story  of  his  great  fight, 
that  began  at  this  relation  to  assume  in  his  mind  the  reality 
of  an  actual  occurrence.  Often  after  their  return  to  Danvis 
the  doughty  champion  recounted  this  exploit  to  half  credu 
lous  audiences,  and  though  Sam,  when  a  listener,  seemed 
sometimes  to  laugh  in  the  wrong  place,  he  never  let  fa1!  a 
word  to  cast  a  shadow  of  doubt  on  its  truthfulness. 

Antoine  proposed  to  concoct  a  chowder,  which  he  prom- 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  63 

ised  them  should  furnish  a  dinner  so  good  as  to  make 
amends  for  the  badness  of  their  breakfast. 

"  Dey  ant  on'y  but  jes'  one  ting  was  better  as  feesh,  an' 
dat  was  be  feesh  wen  he  be  cook  in  chowdy,  'cep'  mud 
turkey. ' '  So  putting  on  a  heavy  coat  he  took  the  kettle 
to  the  shore  and  spent  so  much  time  there  in  washing  it 
that  he  came  back  with  a  shell  of  frozen  rain  upon  his  gar 
ments,  such  as  loaded  all  the  branches  with  its  dull  glitter, 
cracking  and  clattering  with  every  sway  of  the  wind,  and 
crunching  under  foot  on  the  iced  mat  of  last  year's  herbage. 
Pork,  fish,  potatoes,  crackers,  and  onions  furnished  all  the 
requisites  for  a  chowder,  a  dinner  all  in  one  pot,  and  one 
that  needed  no  constant  tending,  therefore  well  suited  to 
the  conditions  of  a  roofless  kitchen  in  a  stormy  day.  When 
it  was  set  to  seething  over  the  now  well-established  fire, 
they  sat  in  the  shelter  of  the  shanty  front,  the  elders  smok 
ing  frequent  pipes,  Pelatiah  solacing  himself  with  spruce 
gum. 

"  Sam  will,"  he  said  after  much  speechless  if  not  quite 
silent  rumination,  and  a  long  look  out  into  the  cheerless, 
icy  woods,  with  no  sign  oi  life  in  them  but  one  red  squirrel 
chipping  a  cone  on  a  hemlock  limb,  and  too  much  de 
pressed  in  spirit  to  utter  one  saucy  snicker  or  defiant  chir, 
"  Sam  will,  I  sh'ld  think  the'  'Id  be  bears,  an'  painters, 
an'— an'  annymills  in  these  'ere  woods.  They're  big 
'nough,  seems  's  'ough." 

"Don't  'pear  to  be  much  in  'em  bigger  'n  coons,'' 
Sam  answered  ;  "we  thought  we  heard  a  lynk  oncte  or 
tvvicte,  but  mebby  't  wa'n't  nothin'.  Like  's  not  the's  a 
painter  a-travellin'  through 'em  oncte  'n  a  while  piaowlin' 
back  an'  to,  but  I  ha' n't  seen  no  signs  on  'em." 

"Tell  us  'baout  that  painter 't  you  killed,  Samwill," 


64  SAM  NOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

said  Pelatiah,  starting  up  with  a  sudden  interest ;  "  I  never 
heard  je,  though  I've  kinder  hearn  tell  on  't. " 

"  Oh,  the'  wa'n't  nothin'    'baout  it,  only  I   happened 
to  shoot  him." 

"  Wai,  Samwill,  tell  'baout  it,  won't  ye?" 
"  Wai/'  Sam  said,  looking  abstractedly  into  the  fire 
while  he  slowly  filled  his  pipe  out  of  a  nearly-spent  blue 
paper  of  Greer's  or  Lorillard's  "  Long  smoking,"  "  the' 
wa'n't  no  painter  huntin'  'baout  it,  only  a  happen-so.  I 
was  a  bee  huntin',  in  September  it  was,  'n'  his  hide  wa'n't 
wuth  fo' pence  only  to  look  at,  'n'  I'd  got  some  bees  to 
workin'  in  a  little  lunsomeclearin'  'way  up  'n  under  Tater 
Hill,  'n'  lined  'em  int'  the  woods,  'n'  reckoned  I'd  got 
putty  nigh  the  tree,  'n'  I  was  saunderin'  'long  lookin' 
caref'l  at  every  tree  'at  hed  a  sign  of  a  hole  in  it,  when  I 
seen  a  shake  of  a  big  limb  of  a  great  maple,  'n'  then  I  seen 
the  critter  scrouched  onto  it  clus  to  the  body  'n'  a-lookin' 
right  at  me.  I'd  left  the  Ore  Bed  back  in  the  clear  in' 
much  as  ten  rods  off  'long  wi'  my  bee  box,  'n'  my  hat  sot 
mighty  light  on  top  o'  my  head  as  I  backed  off,  slower,  I 
guess,  'n'  I'll  go  to  my  own  fun'al.  Soon  as  I  got  him 
aout  o'  my  sight — though  I  don't  s'pose  I  was  aout  o' 
his'n — I  made  durn  few  tracks  to  the  ol'  gun,  I  tell  ye, 
'n'  then  come  back  slow  'n'  caref'l.  There  he  sot 
scrouched  daown  jest  where  I  left  him,  an'  his  durned 
yaller  eyes  right  on  me  's  if  he  hedn't  never  took  'em  off, 
'n'  mebby  he  hedn't.  When  I  got  in  'baout  six  rods,  I 
drawed  a  bead  right  betwixt  'em  'n'  onhitched.  He  didn't 
jump,  but  kinder  sagged  daown  ont'  the  limb  'n'  turned 
under  it  'n'  le'  go  fust  one  foot  'n'  then  'nother,  'n'  arter 
hangin'  by  the  last  bunch  o'  claws  for  a  minute,  come 
daown,  kerflop.  He  clawed  'n'  flurupped  'n'  graowled 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  65 

julluk  any  durned  waounded  cat,  'n'  I  stood  back  'n' 
gin  him  the  floor.  But  his  senses  was  all  knocked  aouten 
on  him,  an'  he  didn't  know  'nough  to  git  to  me  'f  he 
wanted  tu.  I  hussled  Another  charge  int'  the  Ore  Bed 
tol'able  spry,  but  't  wa'n't  needed — he  was  deader  'n  hay 
'lore  I  got  the  cap  on.  An',"  said  Sam,  after  a  pause  in 
which  he  refilled  his  pipe,  "  I  faound  the  bee  tree  not  tew 
rods  furder  on,  an7  tew  weeks  arter  I  took  it  up  an'  got  a 
hund'ed  paounds  o'  the  neatest  honey  't  I  ever  see." 
And  he  seemed  to  feel  quite  as  much  satisfaction  in  the 
recollection  of  finding  the  bountiful  supply  of  wild  honey 
as  in  the  killing  of  the  great  cat. 

"  By  gol  !"  said  Pelatiah,  letting  out  his  long-held 
breath  in  a  great  sigh,  '4  I  sh'd  thought  you'd  a  ben  scairt  !" 

"Wai,  no,"  Sam  said,  still  thinking  of  the  bees,  "I 
hain't  feared  o'  bees  ;  they  never  sting  me  none  tu  speak 
on." 

"  Dat  mek  me  tink,"  said  Antoine,  coming  in  from  a 
brief  inspection  of  the  chowder,  and  nursing  a  coal  that  he 
had  scooped  out  of  the  ashes  in  his  pipe  bowl,  "  mek  me 
tink  one  tarn  me  ma  brudder-law  keel  one  dat  panter  in 
Canada.  We  was  go  huntin'  for  deer.  Ah  guess  so,  an' 
da  was  leetly  mite  snow  on  de  graoun*.  Wai  seh,  we'll 
see  it  track,  we  ant  know  what  he  was  be,  an'  we'll  folia 
dat,  oh,  long,  long  tarn.  Bamby  he'll  go  in  hole  in  rock, 
leetly  laidge,  you  know,  'baout  tree,  fo',  prob'ly  seex 
tarn  big  dis  shantee  was.  Wai,  seh,  boy,  Ah '11  left  it  ma 
brudder-law  for  watch  dat  holes,  an'  Ah' 11  go  'raoun'  back 
side  laidge  see  all  what  Ah' 11  see  Ah' 11  look  veree 
caffly,  an'  what  you  tink  Ah'll  fin'  it  ?  Leetly  crack 
in  rock  'baout  so  wide  ma  tree  finger  of  it,  an'  dat  panter 
hees  tail  steek  off  of  it  'baout  so  long  ma  arm,  prob'ly, 


66  SAM  LOVE  US  CAMPS. 

where  he'll  push  hind  fust  in  dat  holes.  An'  he'll  weegly 
hees  tail  so,"  waving  his  forefinger  slowly.  "  Wai,  Ah' 11 
tink  for  spell  what  Ah  do.  Den  Ah' 11  go  cut  off  strong 
steek  so  big  half  ma  wris'  and  two  foots  long.  Den  Ah'il 
tek  hoi'  dat  tails  an'  tied  knot  in  him,  veree  caffly,  den 
Ah' 11  run  steek  t' rough  an'  pull  knot  hard!  Oh,  hah 
gosh  !  you'll  oughty  hear  dat  panters  yaller  an'  holla  ! 
Wus  as  fo'  honded  tousan'  cat  !  Yes,  seh  !  Oh,  he'll 
hugly,  Ah  tol'  you  !  but  he  can'  help  it,  he  can'  gat  it 
loose  'less  he  pull  up  hees  tails  off.  Wai,  seh,  Ah' 11  lafft 
at  it,  Ah  can'  help  it,  mos'  Ah' 11  split  off  ma  side.  Den 
Ah' 11  go  'raoun'  ma  brudder-law,  an'  he'll  be  scare  mos' 
dead,  an'  goin'  runned  way.  Ah' 11  tol'  heem,  Ah  goin' 
in  dat  holes  shoot  dat  panters.  '  Oh,  gosh  !  '  he'll  ax 
me,  '  he  tore  you  dead  more  as  forty  piece  !  '  Ah' 11  say, 
'  Ah  so  good  man  Ah'  11  don?  t '  f raid  me. '  Den  Ah'  11  crawl 
in  dat  holes  an'  Ah' 11  shoot  it,  boom  !  raght  'tween  hees 
head  !  An'  bamby  pooty  soon  he  ant  yaller  some  more, 
be  all  still  as  mices.  Den  Ah' 11  come  off  de  holes  an' 
Ah' 11  tol'  ma  brudder-law  he'll  crawl  in  an'  pull  off  dat 
panters.  He'll  pooty  'fraid  for  go,  but  bamby  he  go.  He 
touch  hoi'  of  it,  he  can'  pull  it  cause  hees  tail  tie,  but  he 
ant  know.  '  Bah  gosh  !  '  he  say,  '  dat  panters  more 
heavy  as  two  ton  !  Ah  can'  pull  it  !  '  Den  Ah' 11  go 
'raoun'  an'  taked  off  dat  steek,  an'  holla  '  pull  !  '  an'  ma 
brudder-law  pull  more  harder  he  can — boom  !  he  go 
tumbly  on  hees  back,  dat  panters  on  top  of  it  !  Oh  ! 
'f  he  ant  scare,  ma  brudder-law.  Yas  seh!  Wai,  seh, 
boy,"  after  a  pause  during  which  no  one  spoke,  "  'f  you 
ant  mek  b'lieve  dat  stories  you  go  Canada  'long  to  me  Ah 
show  you  de  steek.  Ma  brudder-law  he'll  saved  it.  Ah 
ant  never  tol'  you  stories  so  true  lak  dat,  seh  !" 


SAM   LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  67 

"  I  ha'  no  daoubt  o'  that,  Antwine  ;  you  couldn't  tell 
a  lie  big  'nough  to  choke  ye.  Hain't  that  'ere  mux  o' 
youin  'baout  done?  I'm  a-gittin'  wolfish." 

Alter  due  examination  the  French  cook  pronounced  the 
chowder  ready  to  be  served  up,  and  it  proved  so  toothsome 
that  of  the  whole  kettleful  there  was  hardly  enough  left  for 
Drive's  supper. 

Then  with  smoking  and  more  story-telling  they  wore  out 
the  dreary  day,  and  at  nightfall  the  sky  was  brightening 
with  the  promise  of  a  more  cheerful  morrow. 


VII. 

PELATIAH    GOES  VISITING. 

THE  bright  and  cloudless  morning  had  a  sharp  chill  in 
its  breath,  and  the  Slang  was  frozen  from  shore  to  shore, 
its  waters  smooth  with  ice  of  the  regulation  thickness  of  the 
first  and  last  cold  mornings  of  a  year — namely,  "  as  thick 
as  window  glass. "  Even  in  the  wide  expanse  of  Little 
Otter  there  was  no  open  water  but  in  streaks  along  the 
channel,  marked  by  shimmering  wavelets  in  their  lines  of 
blue  and  gold  when  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  shot  across  the 
landscape.  All  the  hills  and  mountain  ranges  were  hoary 
as  they  had  been  in  midwinter,  for  snow  had  fallen  on 
them  while  rain  had  fallen  on  the  lowlands  of  the  Cham- 
plain  Valley.  There  could  be  no  visiting  of  the  traps  be 
fore  noon,  for  though  the  stout  dugout — a  shapelier  craft, 
be  it  said,  than  Uncle  Lisha  had  prophesied  could  be 
turned  out  by  its  builder's  hand — might  make  its  way  un 
harmed  through  the  ice,  it  would  cost  hard  work,  and  the 
frail  birch  would  be  cut  in  shreds  in  making  a  passage 
through  it.  And  so,  when  breakfast  was  cooked  and  eaten, 
and  the  slight  task  of  washing  the  few  dishes  performed, 
there  seemed  not  much  but  loafing  to  fill  the  forenoon 
with. 

"  We  can't  eat  half  o'  them  'ere  fish  afore  they  spile," 
Sam  remarked,  after  a  long  look  at  the  hanging  row  of 
dressed  pickerel  ;  "I  wish  ' t  some  o'  the  folks  up  to 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  69 

Danvis  had  t'  other  half.  Say,  Peltier,  don't  ye  wanter 
take  a  walk  an'  see  the  country  ?' ' 

"  Honh  !  I  swan,  I'd  know  'baout  it,"  with  a  blank 
stare  toward  the  far-off  hills  of  his  birthplace;  "I  do' 
know  's  I  raly  wanter  hoof  it  clearn  ov'  to  Danvis  t'day  1" 

"  Danvis  !  Shaw  !  nob'dy  wants  ye  tn.  I  was  a- 
thinkin'  mebby  't  ;ould  be  a  pious  idee  to  take  three 
four  pickril  up  t'  ol'  Mister  Bartlett,  'at  gin  us  leave  to 
camp  here.  A  dreffle  clever  ol'  gentleman  he  is,  a  foity- 
leventh  cousin  of  Joels',  an'  a  Quaker  too,  but  t'other 
kind,  Hicksite.  He  lives  up  there  in  that  tew-story  white 
haouse.  'Tain'tmore  'n  a  mild,  'n'  we  c'nset  ye  crostin 
Antwine's  canew,  er  you  c'n  go  'mound  'f  you'd  druther. 
'Tain't  fur  t'  the  head  o'  the  Slang,  er  tu  where  you  c'n 
cross  on  some  lawgs.  'F  you'd  jes'  livs  not  go  an'  take 
him  a  mess  o'  them  fish  I'd  be  'bleeged  tu  ye.  'N'  An- 
twine,  we're  e'en  a  most  aouten  terbarker  'n'  crackers. 
S'posin'  you  set  Peltier  acrost,  'n'  go  'long  up  t'  the  store 
'n'  git  the  staffs  o'  life  ?  'N'  say,  Peltier,  the's  an  al-kill- 
in'  slick  gal  up  t'  Mr.  Baitlett's  !" 

Pelatiah's  blushes  shone  through  the  sunburn  of  his 
honest  face.  "  Oh,  you  git  aout,  Sam  will  !"  with  a  bash 
ful  guffaw;  "I  don't  care  nothin'  'baout  no  gals!" 
Then,  with  quick  forgetfulness  of  his  denial  of  such  weak 
ness,  as  he  looked  down  upon  his  worn  and  outgrown 
raiment,  turning  his  arms  this  way  and  that  to  inspect  their 
covering,  "  I  do'  wanter  go  a-lookin'  's  I  du,  where  the's 
any — any  young  folks  !" 

"Wai,  Ah  don'  care  for  me,"  Antoine  said,  getting 
promptly  to  his  feet,  "  Ah  guess  Ah' 11  lookin'  well  'nough 
's  Ah  do,  an'  Ah' 11  gat  ma  close  all  pref-fume  for  go  see 
de  gal.  Ah' 11  carry  dat  feesh,  an'  Peltiet  go  store  for 


70  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

de  /r0-vizhin.  Ah  ant  see  homan  so  long  ago  Ah' 11 
freegit  what  kan  close  he  wore.  Come,  hoorah  boy  !" 
He  cut  a  forked  twig  from  a  water  maple,  and  stringing 
four  of  the  nicest  fish  upon  it  led  the  way  to  the  landing, 
whither  Pelatiah  presently  followed  alter  hatchelling  his 
towy  locks  with  the  sparsely  toothed  and  only  comb  the 
camp  afforded,  and  vainly  attempting  to  pull  his  trousers 
down  into  neighborliness  with  his  boots.  They  launched 
the  dugout,  and  boarding  it,  ploughed  and  broke  their  slow 
way  to  the  farther  shore,  the  ice  crashing  and  tinkling  and 
jingling  along  their  course,  and  hissing  in  long  fissures  on 
either  side.  When  they  had  landed,  Sam  noted  that  after 
keeping  together  through  the  first  field,  Antoine  diverged 
to  the  right  in  the  direction  of  the  store  at  the  Corners,  and 
Pelatiah  to  the  left  toward  the  big  white  house  that  shone 
among  its  gray  locusts  and  against  its  dusky  background 
of  orchard.  With  his  pleased  half  laugh  and  muttered 
"  jes'  's  1 'xpected,"  came  a  faint  sigh  as  he  turned  his 
eyes  toward  the  white  dome  of  Tater  Hill,  in  whose  morn 
ing  shadow  dwelt  his  buxom  sweetheart.  There  was  some 
comforting  promise  in  the  ranks  of  drying  muskrat  skins 
that  brought  a  contented  expression  to  his  face  after  he  had 
cast  a  slow  calculating  glance  upon  them.  Then  he  gath 
ered  some  turpentine  from  half  a  dozen  boxed  pines,  and 
melting  it  with  grease  in  a  bullet  ladle,  set  about  salving  his 
canoe,  which  had  got  a  grievous  wound  from  a  hemlock 
snag.  He  had  the  camp  all  to  himself,  for  Drive  had  gone  off 
hunting  on  his  own  account,  and  his  earnest  baying  could 
be  heard  away  upstream,  mixed  with  the  querulous  whistle 
of  the  woodchuck  he  was  besieging.  But  Sam  was  never 
weighted  with  any  feeling  of  loneliness  in  the  companion 
ship  of 'the  woods.  If,  when  among  the  patriarchal  trees 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  71 

and  their  tribes  of  tenants  and  dependents,  any  sense  of 
isolation  made  itself  apparent,  it  was  what  he  called  "a 
good  lonesome/'  and  he  enjoyed  it  to-day.  Out  of  the 
woods  came  only  its  own  voice  and  the  voices  of  the  wood 
folk  :  the  sigh  of  the  pines  and  hemlocks  ;  the  thud  of  the 
partridges'  drum-beat,  beginning  with  measured  strokes 
and  ending  in  an  ecstatic  roll  ;  the  soft  cluck  and  whistle 
of  the  jay's  love-song,  intermitting  with  his  more  discordant 
cries  ;  the  woodpecker's  note  of  mating  time,  as  if  he  was 
sharpening  his  bill  with  a  steel  for  the  battles  love  might 
cause  ;  and  from  far  away,  like  the  jingle  of  many  discord 
ant  bells  made  almost  melodious  by  distance,  came  the 
clamor  of  a  convention  of  crows  gathered  to  denounce  some 
detested  hawk  or  owl  or  fox.  Near  by  a  chipmonk  clucked 
incessantly  over  his  recent  discovery  of  a  new  world  wherein 
were  sunlight  and  fresh  air  ;  and  Sam's  neighbor,  the  red 
squirrel,  was  in  high  spirits  with  such  sunshine  after  storm, 
and  flung  at  him  a  shower  of  derisive  jeers  and  snickers 
from  the  trunk  of  the  great  hemlock,  where  he  clung  with 
spasmodic  jerks  of  feet  and  tail. 

'  You  sassy  little  cuss  !"  said  Sam,  "  what  sorter  names 
be  them  you're  a-callin'  on  me  ?  I'm  a  dum'd  good  min' 
ter  stop  your  chittereein'  with  a  pill  aouten  the  Ore  Bed  ! 
You'll  be  a  suckin'  aigs  an'  killin'  young  birds  wus'n  a 
weasel  in  less  'n  a  month,  you  little  pirut  !  But  you're 
hevin'  lots  o'  fun  livin',  'n'  Id'  know  's  they're  my  aigs 
'n'  birds,  so  jaw  away."  And  Sam  lit  his  pipe  with  a 
coal  and  continued  the  application  of  the  plaster  to  the 
canoe  bottom. 

Now  and  then  the  ice  fell  along  shore  with  sudden  jing 
ling  crashes  to  the  level  of  the  falling  water,  and  as  the 
forenoon  wore  away  and  the  shadows  shortened  it  melted 


72  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

apace  where  the  sunshine  fell  full  upon  it,  and  open  water 
began  to  ripple  and  shimmer  in  the  breeze,  and  there  was 
a  prospect  of  making  the  round  of  the  traps  in  the  after 
noon  if  Antoine  returned  in  time.  The  rent  in  the  canoe 
was  mended,  and  Sam  lay  taking  a  lazy  smoke  beside  the 
ashes,  casting  an  occasional  glance  across  the  Slang  for  his 
companions,  when  a  slight  wake  attracted  his  attention,  and 
he  saw  a  small,  dark  object  swimming  past.  "  Naow, 
Mister  Mushrat,"  he  said,  as  he  crawled  into  the  shanty 
and  brought  forth  the  Ore  Bed,  "  don't  ye  know  't  ain't 
healthy  for  none  o'  your  farrr'ly  'raound  here  ?"  but  as  he 
crept  to  the  shore  with  his  rifle  cocked  and  at  a  ready,  he 
saw  that  the  lithe,  snake-like  movements  of  the  swimmer 
were  not  those  of  the  muskrat.  "Ah,  Mister  Mink,  beg 
pardon  an'  make  my  manners,"  he  said,  speaking  with  the 
spiteful  Crack  of  the  rifle.  The  silent  wake  ended  with  the 
spat  of  the  ball,  but  before  the  first  wavelet  set  the  ice  to 
tinkling  along  the  shore,  the  mink  slid  to  the  surface  feebly 
making  the  last  struggles  for  his  tenaciously  held  life. 
"  That  trouble  in  yer  head  is  too  much  for  ye,"  Sam  said, 
as,  after  launching  the  birch,  he  picked  up  the  yet  writhing 
animal  and  gave  it  a  finishing  whack  on  the  gunwale  of 
the  canoe,  "  you  tough  little  cuss.  What  a  hard-lifed  crit 
ter  an  auter  must  be  ;  julluk  you,  only  cut  tu  a  bigger 
partern.  By  the  gret  horn  spoon  !  I  wish  't  I  could  git  a 
crack  at  one  on  'em  jes'  onct  !  'N'  the'  hain't  one  leit  in 
the  hull  o'  these  tew  cricks  they  give  the'  names  tu,  I 
s'pose.  Ho,  hum  !  Haow  many  year  afore  the'  won't  be 
nothin'  left,  I  wonder?  Not  till  arterl'm  a-sleepin'  under 
a  blankit  o'  sods,  I  hope."  As  he  sighed  and  casf  the 
vague  yet  scrutinizing  glance  of  a  hunter  over  water  and 
banks,  and  it  was  caught  by  something  larger  than  mink  or 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  73 

muskrat  swimming  toward  him,  nothing  was  further  from 
his  thoughts  than  the  old  adage,  "The  devil  is  nighest 
when  you're  speakin'  on  him."  "What's  that 'ere  ol' 
fool  of  a  haoun'  dawg  comin'  hum  by  water  for  ?  An'  it 
col'  'nough  to — Drive,  you  cussed  ol'  fool,"  beginning 
under  his  breath  to  formulate  a  rebuke  ;  then  as  it  became 
apparent  that  the  swimmer  was  not  Drive  nor  any  other 
dog,  quite  holding  his  breath,  he  reached  cautiously  for 
ward  for  the  gun,  which  he  was  too  experienced  a  woods 
man  to  let  long  accompany  him  uncharged.  His  nerves 
vibrated  with  a  slight  tremor  when  the  stock  touched  his 
cheek,  but  at  the  right  moment  the  long  barrel  hung  firm 
in  his  grip  and  the  Ore  Bed  snapped  out  its  sharp  little 
voice.  " 'F  that  hain't  an  auter  the'  hain't  none  !"  said 
Sam,  looking  anxiously  over  the  vacant  water  as  he  arose 
and  began  to  reload  the  rifle.  "  An'  I'll  be  dum'd  '£  I 
hain't  missed  him  !  Hev  I  forgot  haow  to  shoot  jes'  the 
minute  in  my  hull  life  'at  I'd  orter  shot  the  clustest  ?" 
But  now,  a  rod  or  rrore  from  where  the  beast  had  disap 
peared,  it  broke  to  the  surface  again  in  a  wild,  writhing, 
flurrying  struggle,  like  a  great  fish  in  its  death  throes ;  and 
Sam,  having  hastily  but  steadily  finished  the  loading  of  his 
gun,  fired  with  instantaneous  aim  at  the  dark  centre  of  the 
widening  circles  of  waves  ;  then,  laying  hold  of  his  paddle, 
with  a  few  strokes  sent  his  craft  thither,  and  dealt  the  strug 
gling  otter  a  downright  blow  with  the  paddle's  edge  that 
took  all  the  fight  and  nearly  all  the  life  out  of  him.  When 
he  lifted  his  prize  inboard — the  last  otter  ever  killed  in  these 
waters — Sam  was  as  full  of  happiness  as  Pelatiah  had  been 
over  the  capture  of  his  big  pickerel,  but  he  raised  no  shout 
oi  triumph  ;  he  only  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  intense  satisfac 
tion  and  said,  "  Well,  there  ye  be  1" 


74 


SAM.   LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 


Not  long  after  Sam  had  gone  ashore  Antoine  appeared 
on  the  eastern  bank.  The  unsteadiness  of  his  gait  and  the 
loudness  of  his  voice  showed  that  he  had  more  than  tasted 
the  storekeeper's  "old  Medford,"  and  Sam  watched  his 
embarkation  with  some  anxiety ;  for  though  a  soaking  was 
not  likely  to  injure  him,  crackers  and  tobacco  would  be 
the  worse  for  it.  But  he  got  himself  and  his  provisions 
safely  afloat,  and  then,  a  few  boats'  lengths  from  shore,  re 
membered  Pelatiah,  for  whom  he  began  to  call  :  "  Hey  ! 
Peltiet !  where  you  was  be  ?  Come  !  Hey  !  Hoorah, 
boy  I  Mos'  suppy  ready.  Bed  tarn  for  go  sleep  !  Wai, 
you'll  ant  goin'  come,  va  zu  diab',  go  to  dev'  !  On'stan' 
bose  of  it,  hein?"  Then,  resuming  his  devious  way,  he 
lifted  up  his  voice,  sonorous  and  tuneful  in  spite  of  its 
drunken  huskiness,  in  English  song,  after  this  wise  : 
"  '  Haovv  dear  of  ma  heart  was  de  screen  of  ma  chilshood, 

When  fon'  reggylecshin'  bring  him  up  of  ma  view, 
De  orchy,  de  middle  hees  deep  tangly  wil'wool. 

An'  hitch  bee-love  spot  of  ma  infant,  he's  new  '- 

"  What  was  nex'  of  it  Ah  freegit  for  rembler— oh,  Ah 
know  : 

"  '  Hokeyhol'  buckle,  ha-ern  bung  buckle, 

Hoi'  cover  moss  buckle,  he'll  hang  up  de  well  ! '  " 

Having  got  the  better  of  this  to  his  complete  satisfaction 
he  fell  to  murdering  the  words  of  another  cold-water  song 
high  in  the  popular  favor  of  those  days  : 

"  '  Oh  den  r  r  re-sagn  dem  r  r  ro-sy  wahn, 

Hitch  smahlin  son  of  a  daugh-taa, 
For  he  ant  so  good  for  de  useful  blood 
As  a  col'  of  spahklin'  wa-taa  !  ' 

"  Whoop  !  Hoorah  for  hoorah  !  Where  was  you  goin' 
for  go,  can-noe?  Ant  you'll  know  it  way  for  shanty? 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  75 

Prob'ly  you'll  get  start  for  Danvit,  ant  it?  Gat  sail  on 
woggin,  do  dat  !"  He  had  become  aware  at  last  that  the 
canoe,  after  making  some  uncertain  progress  toward  the 
desired  port,  was  now  headed  for  the  eastern  shore  of  the 
Slang.  "  Here,  Antwine,  come  here  !"  Sam  shouted, 
becoming  anxious  again  concerning  the  fate  of  the  crackers 
and  tobacco  ;  then  to  himself  :  "  Hear  that  durn'd  Canuck, 
drunker'n  a  bumble  bee,  an'  a-singin'  temp'ance  songs  ! 
What  sets  folks  allus  to  singin'  them  when  they're  full  o' 
rum,  an'  ongodly  sinners  to  shoutin'  hymnes,  I  wonder  ? 
Kinder  ev'nin'  things  up,  I  s'pose.  An'  there  comes  Pel 
tier  !  If  that  durn'd  fool  ondertakes  to  bring  him  over, 
he'll  draownd  him,  sartin.  Peltier  !  don't  ye  tech  to 
come  acrost  till  I  come  arter  ye  !  Come  here,  Antwine, 
wi'  them  crackers  an'  terbarker — I'm  most  starvin'." 

"  M'sieu  Lovet,  Ah' 11  been  mek  it  un petite  voyage  ior  ma 
healthy  !  Naow  Ah' 11  goin'  git  Peltiet,  seh,"  and  he  be 
gan  to  shape  his  course  to  the  best  of  his  ability  toward  the 
waiting  passenger. 

"  Oh,  come  along  here,  Antwine,"  Sam  called,  coax- 
ingly,  "  I've  got  suthin'  to  show  ye  !" 

"Bah  gosh,  M'sieu  Lovet,  Ah'll  captins  dis  boats  !" 
Antoine  answered,  still  paddling  on  his  way  with  blunder 
ing  strokes.  "  Wen  Ah' 11  get  ready  come  dar,  Ah' 11  corn- 
in'  ;  w'en  Ah'll  ant  get  ready,  Ah'll  don't  comin'  !  bah 
gosh  feesh  hooks  !  On'stan'  ?" 

"  Look  a-here,  Antwine,"  said  Sam,  in  a  different  tone, 
and  at  the  same  time  launching  the  birch  and  stepping  into 
it,  "  you  come  ashore  right  straight  off,  er  I'll  come  aout 
there  an'  knock  ye  gaily  west,  an'  tow  ye  ashore!  I've 
goddone  a-foolin'." 

"Oh,  Sam,  you'll   ant  gittin'  mad,  was   it  1     You  ant 


76  SAM   LOT  EL'S   CAMPS. 

wan'  leave  you  visity  for  roos'  all  naght  on  banks  lak 
geeses,  don' tit?  Ah' 11  goin'  git  it,  me." 

"  You  come  here  !"  Sam  said  sharply,  as  he  pushed  his 
canoe  afloat ;  and  Antoine,  turning  the  prow  of  the  dugout 
homeward,  was  soon  alongside.  "  Oh,  Sam,"  he  whined 
in  maudlin  tones  as  he  tumbled  ashore,  "  what  you  was 
talk  lak  dat  way  for?  You'll  know  Ah  ant  wan'  faght  wid 
you,  Sam.  Dey  ant  fo'  honded  tousan'  man  could  scairt 
me,  but  Ah  ant  wan'  leek  ma  frien'  seh  !  Bah  gosh, 
no  !"  and  he  made  an  attempt  to  embrace  Sam. 

"  All  right,"  Sam  said,  putting  him  aside,  "  I  must  go 
an'  git  Peltier.  You  look  a'  that 'ere  annymil  'at  I  killed 
whilst  you  was  gone,  an'  then  lay  daown  an'  take  a 
snooze,  for  I  know  you're  turrible  tired  with  all  'at  you've 
underwent." 

As  Antoine  balanced  himself  before  the  dead  otter  and 
focussed  his  vague  stare  upon  it,  he  was  at  first  almost  over 
come  with  wonder.  "What  you  call  dat,  Sarn  ?  Pant- 
ers  ?  Bears?  No,  he  ant  bears,  he'll  got  some  tails! 
What  he  was  be  ?" 

"  Auter, "  Sam  answered. 

"  Oh,  yas,  otty,  yas,  what  we'll  call  it  laloulre,  yas,  yas. 
Ah  keel  more  as  fave  honded  of  it  in  Canada,  some  of  it 
more  bigger  as  you  was,  but  dis  one  so  small  Ah  ant  know 
heem.  Ah  s'pose  you'll  feel  pooty  plump,  Sam,  prob'ly, 
but  he  leetly  fellar,  not  much  bigger  as  minks  was.  What 
for  you  ant  let  heem  growed,  Sam,  hein  ?"  But  Sam  was 
half  way  across  the  Slang,  and  when  he  returned  with  Pela- 
tiah  the  Canadian  was  snoring  his  way  into  the  oblivious 
interior  of  the  land  of  Nod. 

"  You  needn't  git  nothin'  for  me  t'  eat,"  Pelatiah  said, 
as  Sam  began  preparations  for  a  late  dinner,  ' '  for  they 


SAM  LOVEUS   CAMPS.  77 

made  me  eat  dinner  with  'em.  Oh,  my  gol  !  a  heap  big 
ger  'n  I  c'ld  see  over,  they  piled  ont'  my  plate  !  They 
hedn't  hed  a  fish  this  year,  'n'  they  was  tumble  'bleeged 
tu  you,  'n'  made  me  bring  a  hull  ha'  bushel  o'  apples, 
signofiders  an'  gillflaowers,  they  be.  I'm  goin'  to  take 
the  bag  hum  sometime.  An'  they  thee'd  an'  thaou'd  me 
jes'  'f  I  was  a  member  'mong  Friends  's  they  say.  'N' 
old  Mister  Bartlett  he  wanter  know  'f  I  knowed  any  stiddy 
feller  't  wanter  hire  aout  for  six  or  eight  mont's,  an'  fin'ly 
sez  he,  '  does  thee  wanter? '  S'pose  aour  folks  'ould  let 
me,  Samwill,  bein'  't  I  hain't  come  o'  age,  an'  haow 
much 'd  I  orter  ast  him?  Say,"  without  waiting  for  an 
answer,  "  that  gal  hain't  their  darter,  she's  their  hired 
gal,  but  she's  harnsome  'nough  to  be  the  Pres' dent's 
darter.  She's  neater  'n  anyschoolmarm  !  Oh  !  'f  I  wa'n't 
'shamed  o'  my  darn'd  ol'  ragged  duds,  an'  me  a-stickin' 
tew  foot  aouten  both  ends  on  'em.  Shouldn't  s'pose  she'd 
ha'  spoke  tu  me,  but  she  ast  me  a  hull  lot  o'  questions 
'baout  my  folks,  an'  kep'  a-smilin'  jes'  's  clever  !  S'pose 
she  wouldn't  look  at  me  agin,  would  she,  Samwill  ?" 

"  Can't  tell  ye,  Peltier  ;  the's  no  tellin'  nothin'  'baout 
what  women  folks  '11  du  or  won't  du,"  Sam  answered, 
rising  and  brushing  from  his  tawny  beard  the  crumbs  of 
the  crackers  wherewith  he  had  made  his  dinner.  "  Wai, 
I  must  be  off  an'  tend  to  what  traps  I  can,  for  that  poor 
creetur  won't  be  no  use  to-day.  Peltier,  don't  ye  never 
drink  no  sperits  'thaout  ye  raly  need  'em,  'n'  that'll  be 
mighty  seldom.  When  huntin'  an'  fishin'  an'  trappin' 
an'  drinkin'  goes  together,  the  huntin'  an'  fishin'  an'  trap- 
pin'  gits  dreffie  poorly  'tended  tu,  I  tell  ye.  If  he  wakes 
up  ugly,  you  kinder  saunder  off  an'  let  him  work  it  off 
alone  by  hisself,  erless' ' — after  a  little  consideration — 


78  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

"  you'd  drulher  swat  him  side  of  the  head  tew  three  times 
an'  make  him  behave  hisself.  If  he  thinks  you're  the  least 
mite  afeared  on  him,  he'll  be  meaner  'n  tunket,  arter  the 
way  o'  all  his  dum'd  breed." 

Giving  this  advice,  Sam  departed,  and  during  his  ab 
sence  Pelatiah  comforted  himself  with  apples  and  gum  and 
pleasant  waking  dreams. 

The  sun  had  gone  down  behind  the  woods  and  twilight 
was  creeping  over  the  landscape,  and  the  evening  air  was 
vibrating  with  the  ceaseless  pur  of  the  toads  and  the  shrill 
chime  of  the  Hyla's  vesper  bells,  before  the  light  dip  of 
Sam's  returning  paddle  was  heard,  followed  presently  by 
the  swish  of  the  canoe  bottom  on  the  matted  drift  of  rushes. 
He  had  as  little  to  show  for  his  voyage  as  was  to  be  ex 
pected  after  such  an  unpropitious  night  for  trapping  as  the 
last  had  been,  and  he  had  not  had  time  to  visit  and  reset 
nearly  all  the  traps  as  he  might  have  done  with  Antoine's 
help,  and  so  Sam  was  not  in  his  pleasantest  mood  when 
he  stalked  into  the  firelight  with  his  light  burden  of  musk- 
rats.  "  Hain't  that  durn'd  peasouper  come  to  his  senses 
yit  ?"  he  said,  pausing  a  moment  to  listen  to  Antoine's 
snores  ;  "  wish  't  he'd  crawled  int'  the  Slang  an'  draownded 
hisself ;  but  he  couldn't — he  hain't  one  o'  the  draowndin' 
kind.  Wai,  Peltier,  le's  ha'  suthin'  t'  eat — reckoned 
you'd  ha'  got  some  supper  ready  'fore  naow. " 

"Wai,"  Pelatiah  apologized,  "I  did  think  on' t  some 
'n'  I  went  so  fur  's  to  cut  some  pork,  but  I  was  feared  I'd 
spile  it  a-fryin'  on  't ;  'n'  went  so  fur  as  to  wash  some 
'taters,  but  I  didn't  know  whether  no  to  put  'em  in  hot 
water  or  col',  'n'  the  same  wi'  the  tea,  'n'  I  didn't  know 
whether  no  it  took  a  han'ful  for  a  drawin',  erless,  er  more, 
'n'  so  I  didn't  do  nuthin'  sca'sely,  'n'  Antwine  he  hain't 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  79 

done  much  only  snort  'n'  grunt.  I'm  sorry,  but  I  guess 
my  '  cumilary  edication  has  been  sorter  mislected,'  as 
Solon  Briggs  says.  Cumilary  !  what  in  J'rus'lem  does 
that  mean,  s'pose  ?" 

"  Oh,  vval,"  Sam  said  cheerily,  "  nev'  mind,  we'll  ha' 
suthin'  to  rights,"  and  he  soon  had  pork,  fish,  and  pota 
toes  cooked  and  ready.  "  I  b'lieve  I'll  call  aour  sleepin' 
pardner  ;  he's  hungry  'f  he  only  knowed  it.  Antvvine  !" 
Getting  no  response  but  a  grunt,  he  dragged  the  Canadian 
forth  by  the  legs  and  shook  him  to  such  wakefulness  that 
he  sat  upright  and  stared  blankly  at  the  smoking  slab. 
"Bah  gosh!  where  Ah'li  was?  Ah' 11  t'ought  Ah  was 
keel  in  de  Papineau  war  !" 

"  You'd  orter  ben,"  said  Sam. 

"  Oh,  Sam,  no  !  Dis  was  gra'  deal  bettah  for  me.  'F 
Ah' 11  dead,  Ah  can'  heat,  but  naow  Ah  show  you,  me  !" 
And  he  did,  while  they  ate  their  supper  without  much  sauce 
of  conversation. 

"  Naow  then,  Anlwine, "  Sam  said,  as  they  prepared  to 
turn  in  for  the  night,  "  I  wanter  tell  ye  one  thing,  'f  ye 
git  drunk  agin  whilst  we're  here,  I'll  give  ye  the  almighti- 
est  hidin'  't  ever  you  hed  vvi'  the  best  blue  beech  gad  I 
c'n  find--an'  I  know  where  the'  's  some  neat  ones  !" 

"  Me?  Dronk  !  Oh,  bah  gosh  !  Ah'll  ant  never  got 
dronk  ma  laf  tarn  fore,  nor  aftyward,  nor  dis  tarn.  Ah 
was  tire,  an'  sah,  Ah  was  nat' rally  seek  !" 

"  Wai,"  said  Sam,  "  it'll  be  better  for  your  health  not  to 
hev  no  more  sech  fits  o'  sickness." 

Then,  lulled  by  the  incessant,  monotonous  chorus  of  the 
toads  and  frogs,  they  went  to  sleep. 


VIII. 

SPEARING    BY   JACKLIGHT. 

AFTER  the  cold  snap  came  a  week  of  soft- breathed  days 
and  dark,  still,  frostless  nights,  wherein  the  traps  waylaid 
many  a  nightly  wandering  muskrat,  and  the  trappers'  har 
vest  was  rich. 

Some  of  the  earliest  comers  of  birds  were  beginning  nest- 
building  ;  the  wood-ducks  had  chosen  their  homes,  and 
dusky  ducks  in  pairs  sought  the  remotest  coves,  while  great 
flocks  of  their  companions  went  on  their  way  northward. 
The  crows  scorned  now  the  once  prized  heap  of  muskrat 
carcasses,  for  they  had  entered  into  full  possession  of  their 
ancient  rights,  and  swaggered  about  the  fields  with  an  air 
of  absolute  ownership,  and  were  evidently  somewhat  im 
patient  that  their  tenants,  the  farmers,  were  so  slow  in  be 
ginning  corn- planting. 

More  birds  came  from  the  south  :  re-inforcements  of  the 
dusky  army  of  blackbirds,  with  flashing  troops  of  redwings  ; 
the  main  body  of  the  robins  joined  the  advance  guard,  and 
the  thickets  were  more  populous  with  slate-colored  snow 
birds,  and  noisy  with  their  sharp  metallic  chirping  ;  and 
there  were  many  arrivals  of  later  comers.  The  highhole 
cackled  and  hammered  again  on  his  lofty  perch  ;  the  white- 
throated  sparrow  called  all  day  long  for  the  ever-absent  Mr. 
Peabody,  and  the  wailing  cry  of  the  grass  plover  arose  from 
meadows  and  upland  pastures.  Out  of  nooks  of  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  81 

marshes  the  booming  of  the  bittern  resounded  over  the 
watery  level,  a  sound  so  strange  to  Pelatiah's  ears  that  he 
asked,  "  Who  be  them  fellers  a-drivin'  stakes  in  thema'sh, 
an'  what  be  they  a-duin'  on  it  for  ?' '  and  was  greatly  aston 
ished  when  told  that  it  was  only  the  voice  of  a  bird,  and 
entertained  an  uncomfortable  suspicion  that  Sam  was  fool 
ing  him  till  one  day  when  he  stealthily  stalked  the  sound 
and  saw  a  "  gob  gudgeon"  standing  on  a  mass  of  marsh 
drift  diligently  pumping  out  his  dolorous  love-song.  *  'Golly 
blue  !"  Pelatiah  remarked,  as,  when  he  disclosed  himself, 
the  startled  fowl  sprang  upon  his  awkward  flight  with  a 
contemptuous  parting  salute,  "  hisol'  pump  needs  primin' 
'f  that's  all  he's  got  for  so  much  fuss  !"  By  day  and  by 
night  stranger  outcries  came  from  the  marshes,  weird 
laughter  and  wild  yells,  the  voices  of  unknown  water-fowl 
that  were  never  seen. 

The  recurved  lines  of  the  water  maple's  branches  began 
to  glow  with  dots  and  clusters  of  scarlet,  and  the  willows 
shone  with  catkins  of  silver  and  gold,  caskets  which  held  a 
treasure  that  all  the  bees  of  the  region  came  to  steal.  The 
grass  was  greening  in  the  swales  and  on  the  warmest  slopes, 
and  the  farmers  were  ploughing  in  a  dozen  fields  within 
sight  and  as  many  more  within  hearing,  all  shouting  to  their 
slow  teams  of  oxen  so  vociferously  that  Pelatiah  said,  as  he 
lounged  on  the  bank  in  front  of  the  shanty  :  "It's  eq'l  tu 
a  lawgin'  bee  t'  hum  !"  and  as  his  thoughts  ran  homeward, 
led  by  these  familiar  sounds,  "  Darn  it  all  !  I  s'pose  I'd 
ort  t'  be  t'  hum  a-helpin'  aour  folks,  but  I  snum,  I'd 
druther  stay  here  !"  and  his  gaze  wandered  across  lots  to 
the  white  house. 

"  Wai,  we'll  all  go  to  rights,  Peltier,"  said  Sam  ;  "the 
trappin'  's  'baoutdoneup — hain't  got  sea' sely  nuthin'  these 


82  SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

tew  three  nights — 'n'  I  expec'  the' 11  be  a  team  arter  us 
'fore  the  end  o'  the  week,  'n'  then  we'll  pull  up  'n'  clear 
aout." 

"  Bah  gosh  !"  cried  Anioine,  "  we'll  ant  go  'fore  the 
bull  pawt  was  bit  an'  we'll  ketch  lot  of  it!  No  sah  ! 
De  evelin  was  be  gittin'  warm,  an'  Ah'll  know  he  was  bit 
pooty  soon,  prob'ly  to-naght,  prob'ly  to-morreh  naght, 
Ah  dun-no.  Ah'll  gat  some  hook  an'  lahne  w'en  Ah  was 
go  store.  Where  Ah'll  put  dat  ?  Ah  freegit,  Ah'll  be  so 
seek  dat  tarn  !"  and  he  began  a  hurried  and  excited  search 
among  his  disorderly  effects  for  the  missing  tackle. 
"  Hoorah,  here  he  was  !  Naow,  Sam,  give  me  some  bul 
let  for  mek  sinkit  an'  Ah'll feex  up  for  try  to  naght,  'f  Ah 
can  fin'  som'  wum.  Ah'll  gat  some  pole-feesh  more  as 
week  'go.  Oh,  Ah  can  ketch  it  if  anyboddy  can  ketch," 
he  bragged  as  he  half  hitched  a  hook  on  to  the  coarse 
line.  "  Ah  was  preffick  feeshymans."  Then  he  split  one 
of  the  Ore  Bed's  big  balls  half  in  two  and  closed  it  on  the 
line,  which  he  then  rigged  upon  a  pole  that  had  had  more 
labor  bestowed  upon  it  in  trimming  and  peeling  than  its 
original  worth  seemed  to  have  warranted,  for  it  was  top- 
heavy  and  as  crooked  as  an  eel.  Perhaps  its  owner  con 
sidered  this  a  virtue  rather  than  a  fault,  and  hoped  that  the 
reflection  of  the  contorted  "  hard  hack"  might  entice  some 
lonely  eel  to  its  companionship ;  and  the  eel  was  to  him 
what  the  trout  and  salmon  are  to  the  scientific  angler. 
Having  his  outfit  arranged  to  his  satisfaction  he  crossed  the 
Slang  in  the  dugout  to  the  cultivated  fields  beyond  in  quest 
of  earth  worms,  and  Pelatiah  accompanied  him  on  his  way 
to  return  the  borrowed  bag,  while  the  camp  was  left  to  the 
keeping  of  Sam  and  his  hound. 

Sam  busied  himself  with  bundling  up  the  dried  peltry, 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  83 

and  Drive  was  as  busy  with  ineffectual  digging  in  the  near 
est  muskrat  burrow,  which  he  did  not  abandon  till  long  after 
the  beleaguered  rat  had  ploughed  his  way  to  safety  toward  the 
channel  of  the  Slang  with  a  sluggish,  heavy,  under, water 
wake  faintly  marking  his  furrow  ;  then,  shaking  and  wiping 
some  of  the  dirt  from  his  long  ears  and  sorrowful  face,  he 
sought  more  congenial  pastime  in  chasing  and  being  chased 
by  a  vixen  who  had  begun  housekeeping  and  the  rearing 
of  a  family  not  far  away.  Once,  rating  this  ancient  enemy 
of  her  race  with  angry,  gasping  barks,  she  followed  him  so 
close  to  camp  that  Sam  got  a  full  view  of  her  in  her  sorry 
and  tattered  faded-yellow  garb  of  vulpine  maternity,  not 
twenty  yards  behind  the  slinking,  shamefaced  hound. 
"  Good-arternoon,  marm  !"  he  said  ;  "  'i  'twas  in  the  fall 
o'  the  year,  naow,  yer  tail  'ould  be  pintin'  tow-wards  that 
'ere  sneakin'-ol'  bundle  o'  kag  hoops,  an'  the'd  be  a 
diff'ent  style  o'  music  in  fashion  !  Good-by,  marm,"  as 
the  vixen  vanished  behind  the  veil  of  hazy  undergrowth  ;  "  I 
wish  ye  good  luck  a -raisin'  yer  fam'ly,  an'  'ould  like  to 
make  the  hull  of  yer  'quaintances  come  November,  an'  ye 
git  yer  good  close  on.  Oh,  Drive  !  hain't  you  a  spunky 
dawg,  a  skulkin'  hum  with  yer  tail  atween  yer  laigs  afore 
a  nasty  little  bitch  fox  not  quarter 's  big  as  you  be  !"  as 
the  hound  came  up  to  him  and  endeavored  to  explain  the 
peculiarities  of  the  situation  with  whimpers  and  more  deeply 
corrugated  brow,  and  quick,  low-swung  tail  beats  that 
shook  all  his  lean  anatomy.  "  A  spunky  ol'  haoun'  dawg 
you  be  !  But  yer  julluk  me,  an'  I  guess  the  most  o'  tew- 
legged  he  humerns.  Lord  !  I'd  druther  wrastle  with  a 
mad  painter  'an  to  face  a  jawin'  womern,  I  be  durn'd  if  I 
hedn't  !  If  they  won't  take  the  spunk  aouten  a  feller,  he's 
tougher  'n  a  biled  aowl  !" 


84  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

The  sun  was  down,  and  the  reflected  gold  of  the  western 
sky  lay  unbroken  on  the  quiet  water  save  where  a  skim 
ming  bank  swallow  touched  it  with  the  light  dip  of  his 
wing,  or  a  fish  lazily  rose  to  an  insect  that  dimpled  it  as  it 
fell  exhausted  in  its  too  adventurous  flight,  before  the  re 
turning  dugout  vexed  the  Slang  into  a  thousand  distortions 
of  mirrored  sky  and  shores. 

Antoine's  bait  hunting  had  been  successful,  and  he  had 
an  old  teapot  half  full  of  angle- worms — an  encouraging  sign 
of  future  luck,  he  thought ;  and  supper  was  no  sooner  over 
than  he  betook  himself  to  the  bank  with  pole  and  teapot. 
He  charged  his  hook  with  a  bait  that  might  entice  the  full 
est-fed  and  most  indifferent  bullhead  in  all  the  Slang,  and 
spitting  on  it  for  luck,  sent  it  with  a  whistling  overhead 
cast  straight  out  from  shore,  where  it  and  the  heavy  sinker 
plunged  with  a  kerchug  that  again  awoke  the  waves.  While 
he  sat  waiting  with  statuesque  patience  for  a  bite,  his  com 
panions  watched  him  with  an  interest  at  first  quite  intense, 
but  which  grew  languid  as  Antoine's  form  became  an  un 
defined  dark  blur  in  the  dusk  and  yet  gave  no  sign  that  his 
patient  waiting  had  been  rewarded  with  even  a  nibble. 

Then  they  saw  the  flicker  of  a  feeble  light  just  kindled 
away  down  stream  on  the  farther  shore.  Presently  it  grew 
from  the  volume  of  a  candle  flame  to  a  brilliant  blaze,  and 
then  began  to  slowly  skirt  the  shore,  attended  by  its  glit 
tering  red  dancing  reflection,  and  revealing  one  figure,  one 
side  red  with  firelight,  the  other  black  with  shadow,  stand 
ing  close  behind  it,  and  dimly  suggesting  another  crouch 
ing  a  little  farther  away,  with  a  paddle  that  gleamed  for  an 
instant  at  regular  intervals  as  it  was  raised  fora  stroke,  then 
faded  into  the  gloom.  Then  the  light  turned  toward  them, 
and  yawing  along  its  course  came  more  swiftly  down  its 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  85 

own  shortening  glade,  growing  larger  and  sending  down 
frequent  showers  of  sparks  on  either  side,  each  spark  and 
its  double  meeting  at  the  water's  surface  and  vanishing  there 
together.  The  square  prow  of  a  scow  became  visible,  and 
a  man  standing  therein,  wielding  a  spear  that  he  made  a 
show  of  well-intended  but  ineffectual  paddling  with. 

"  Hillo,  Danvis  !"  hailed  the  actual  propelling  power 
in  the  stern. 

"  Hello,  Lakefield,"  Sam  answered,  recognizing  the 
stentorian  voice  of  his  whilom  enemy,  and  giving  him  in 
return  the  name  of  his  township. 

"  Wanter  take  a  leetle  turn  up  the  Slang  a-spearin'  ?" 

11  Wai,  I  do'  know/'  said  Sam,  rising  and  going  toward 
them  as  the  scow  surged  through  the  floating  sedges  and 
butted  against  the  shore  ;  "  I  can' t  spear  a  fish  ;  never  done 
sech  a  thing  in  my  life." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  du  no  spearin'.  Jimmy  '11  'tend  t' 
that ;  he's  a  ripper  t'  spear.  You  c'n  help  me  paddle  'f 
you're  a  minter,  an'  Jimmy  '11  prod  'em.  He's  wus'n  a 
kingfisher  ;  hain't  that  so,  Jimmy  ?" 

Jimmy,  who  seemed  not  much  given  to  speech,  answered 
only  with  a  grunt,  and  drew  from  his  pocket  a  plug  of  to 
bacco,  which,  after  slowly  and  thoughtfully  turning  in  the 
light  of  the  jack  in  search  of  the  most  vulnerable  corner, 
he  gnawed  a  quid  from,  and  then  extended  toward  Sam. 
The  friendly  offering  was  declined  with  thanks  and  the  ex 
planation  that  Sam  "  didn't  never  chaw." 

"Come  on,"  urged  the  other  occupant  of  the  scow, 
"  an'  ha'  some  fun  an'  git  some  fish  f  yer  breakfus.  He 
c'n  go  tew,  'i  he  wants  t'  see  the  fun.  The's  room 
'nough,"  nodding  toward  Pelatiah. 

"  Fees^for  breakfis  !"   cried  Antoine,  as  he  jerked  a 


86  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

bull-head  out  and  landed  it  with  a  heavy  thud  on  the  bank 
the  pole  and  line's  length  behind  him,  where  it  protested 
against  the  sudden  change  of  elements  with  vigorous  flap 
ping  of  its  tail  and  grinding  of  its  jaws.  "  Bah  gosh  !  here 
he'll  was,  dumn  sight  gre'  deal  better  as  peckrils  was  ! 
Ant  you'll  hear  it  grape  hees  toofs  ?  Dat  'cause  he'll  know 
haow  good  he'll  was  w'en  he'll  be  fry,  an'  he'll  mad  'cause 
he  can't  heat  some  of  it  heesef.  Oh,  he'll  good  wan  !r' 
as,  with  the  handiness  of  one  who  knows  the  trick,  he 
grasped  the  fish  between  the  thorny  pectorals  and  dorsal 
and  disengaged  the  hook;  "he'll  humpy  fellar.  Dey's 
more  of  it  comin'.  All  hees  ree-lashin'  comin'  breakfis. 
You  go  spearin'  you  wan'  to,  Ah' 11  stay  here  an'  tol'  it 
good  evelin  w'en  he'll  come." 

Sam  and  Pelatiah  took  their  allotted  places  in  the  boat, 
which  resumed  its  slow  arid  silent  way  over  the  submerged 
marshes.  The  glaring  light  of  the  jack,  fed  at  times  from 
a  store  of  "  fat"  pine,  out  of  the  darkness  conjured  ghostly 
forms  of  trees  that  seemed  to  stalk  out  from  the  shore  to 
meet  them,  then  receded  and  vanished  in  the  gloom  behind 
them.  A  muskrat  in  bootless  quest  of  departed  friends 
halted  on  his  course  and  lay  for  a  moment  with  as  little 
motion  as  a  drifting  stick,  regarding  the  unwonted  floating 
illumination  of  his  haunts,  then  dived  with  a  startling  sud 
den  splash.  An  owl  flitted  with  noiseless  flight  like  a 
gigantic  moth  close  to  the  glaring  torch,  and  disappearing, 
hooted  out  a  cry  of  wonder  or  a  hoarse  laugh  of  derision 
from  the  more  congenial  depths  of  night.  Wood-ducks 
sat  on  their  roosts  of  prone  trees  with  charmed  gaze  till  the 
falling  sparks  hissed  close  beside  them  before  they  sprang 
fluttering  away  into  the  gloom,  uttering  wild  squeaks  of 
fright.  As  the  scow  headed  across  a  broad  shallow,  the  in- 


SAM  LOl^EL'S   CAMPS.  87 

tent  spearsman  raised  his  spear,  and  as  the  craft  was  checked 
in  obedience  to  the  motion,  he  made  a  quick  thrust  and 
brought  in  a  great  pickerel,  whose  struggles  were  quickly 
ended  by  a  stamp  of  his  captor's  boot-heel. 

"  That's  the  sort,  Jimmy/'  said  his  comrade  in  loud 
approval.  Jimmy  only  grunted,  and  a  moment  later  hurled 
his  spear  twice  its  length.  As  the  boat  came  up  to  the 
wriggling  and  waving  shaft,  he  stooped,  and  picking  it  up, 
boated  a  large  fish.  "  Swago"  he  laconically  catalogued 
it,  and  stamped  it  into  everlasting  rest. 

"  That's  the  way  Jimmy  jerks  'em  in,"  cried  his  friend 
and  patron.  :<  When  he  runs  his  eye  aout  at  'em,  they're 
goners,  you  better  b'lieve  !  I  argy  he  does  it  by  charmin' 
on  'em  with  his  good  looks.  You've  noticed  'at  he's  on- 
common  harnsome. " 

"  Onph  !"  Jimmy  grunted,  and  after  some  slow  rumina 
tion  of  his  cud,  speaking  more  at  length  than  was  his  wont, 
"  Guess  you  hain't  no  gret  to  brag  on  that  way,  Joe,  no 
more  'n  me.  Folks  calls  him  Time,"  addressing  Sam  and 
indicating  his  comrade  by  a  backward  movement  of  his 
head,  "  'cause  he  favors  the  pictur'  o'  Time  in  the  primer." 

"  'Tend  right  tu  yer  spearin',  Jimmy,  an'  don't  tire  yer- 
self  a  talkin',"  said  Joe.  And  Jimmy  raised  his  spear, 
then  arresting  it  in  a  half  delivered  stroke,  said  with  su 
preme  contempt,  "  Cussed  bowfin  !"  and  the  boat  moved 
on.  Presently  he  poised  his  spear  and  announced,  "  Mud 
turkle.  OP  buster.  Shell  I?" 

"  Let  him  hev  !"  shouted  the  commander  of  the  expe 
dition,  and  the  spear  went  unerringly  to  its  mark.  Jimmy 
grunted  profusely  as  he  lifted  the  sprawling  monster  inboard 
partly  by  the  spear  and  partly  by  a  "  tail  holt."  He  was  a 
patriarch  of  the  oozy  depths,  with  the  moss  of  many  years 


88  SAAf  toy  EL'S   CAMPS. 


clinging  to  his  broad  shell,  and  was  vicious  in  appearance 
and  behavior. 

"Cut  off  his  cussed  ol'  head,"  said  Joe,  passing  his 
open  jack-knife  forward,  "  an'  let  him  c'mmence  his  nine 
dayso'dyin'  right  off.  Mebbyyou're  the  man  'atketched 
my  goslin's,  you  humbly  ol'  cuss  !  Haow  d'ye  like  that 
kind  o'  sass  yerself  ?"  as  Jimmy  sawed  away  at  the  turtle's 
tough  neck  just  below  where  the  spear  transfixed  it,  while 
the  reptile  clawed  at  the  knife  and  hissed  angrily.  When 
he  was  decapitated  and  laid  upon  his  back  the  boat  moved 
on  to  new  conquests,  Jimmy  taking  many  fine  fish  of  vari 
ous  kinds  before  they  reached  the  head  of  navigation, 
where  a  rude,  low  log  bridge  barred  their  farther  way.  As 
they  skirted  the  left  bank  on  their  homeward  cruise,  Jimmy 
still  alert  for  more  victims,  Joe  said  :  "  Jimmy's  a  cuss  to 
spear,  wus'n  a  kingfisher  or  a  blue  herrin',  but  he  won't 
paddle  er  pole.  Some  says  it's  'cause  he's  lazy,  but  I  'low 
it's  on'y  'cause  he  don't  like  tu  work  !" 

"  Onph  !  Lazy  !  The'  wa'n't  nobody  't  ever  wasted 
the'  breath  a-  tell  in'  haow  't  you  was  lazy,"  was  Jimmy's 
only  reply  to  the  imputation. 

When  they  reached  the  landing  at  the  camp  all  went  ashore 
and  stretched  their  cramped  legs,  and  found  the  warmth  of 
the  fire  very  comforting,  for  the  dampness  and  chill  of  the 
spring  night  had  crept  into  their  bones. 


IX. 

BREAKING  CAMP. 

RADIANT  in  the  light  of  the  camp-fire  they  found  An- 
toine  rejoicing  over  a  baker's  dozen  of  bullpouts,  which 
he  was  about  skinning.  The  dressing  of  these  fish  was  a 
revelation  to  Sam  and  Pelatiah,  who  had  never  before  seen 
it  done.  One  cut  of  the  knife  forward  from  behind  the 
sharp-spined  dorsal,  a  rip  down  the  back,  a  snap  of  the 
backbone  attended  by  a  pistol-like  pop  of  the  bursting  air 
bladder,  and  the  fish  was  stripped,  beheaded  and  disem 
bowelled  by  another  motion  with  a  suddenness  that  made  it 
and  these  two  observers  gape  with  astonishment. 

Jimmy,  after  looking  on  a  short  time,  drew  forth  and 
opened  his  knife,  and  after  carefully  licking  from  the  blade 
the  gummy  morsels  of  tobacco  adhering  to  it,  sharpened  it 
on  his  boot  and  picked  up  a  bull-head,  which,  with  more 
cuts  and  a  little  less  speed  than  Antoine  used,  he  rid  of  its 
incumbrances  of  big  head,  skin,  and  entrails  to  the  saving 
of  some  meat. 

''  Saves  a  mou'f'l  er  tew  o'  good  meat,"  he  remarked, 
displaying  the  dressed  fish  a  moment  before  he  cast  it  into 
the  pan  with  the  others.  Then,  wiping  his  knife  on  the 
ground,  he  shut  it,  returned  it  to  his  pocket,  grunted  and 
lapsed  into  his  normal  silence  and  slow  rumination,  mak 
ing  no  response  to  Antoine' s  comment,  "Ma  way  save 
tarn,  an'  tarn  was  worse  more  as  meats.  Mans  dat  know, 


90  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

say  tarn  was  money,  an'  paoun'  of  money  worse  more  as 
paoun'  of  meats,  don't  it,  hein  ?" 

When  they  adjourned  to  the  scow  to  divide  the  night's 
catch  of  the  spear,  Antoine  could  not  repress  his  admira 
tion  of  the  fine  pickerel,  and,  more  than  all  else,  of  the 
great  turtle.  "  Here,  Peasoup,"  said  Joe,  heaving  it 
ashore,  where  it  landed  right  side  up  and  began  an  aimless 
journey,  perhaps  in  search  of  its  head,  "  yer  pardner  says 
you  eat  these  'ere  overgrowed  bugs.  'F  you  want  it,  take 
it." 

"  Oh,  bah  gosh  !"  cried  Antoine,  heading  off  the  pon 
derous  present — if  a  headless  thing  can  be  headed  off — and 
hastening  to  tether  it  with  a  cord  to  a  bush,  "  Ah' 11  veree 
tousan'  tarn  ob-laige  to  you,  seh  !  More  as  Ah  can  tol'  of 
it.  Ah' 11  took  dat  home  an'  fat  up  all  my  waf  an'  chillens 
wid  him,  you  see  'f  Ah' 11  don't,  Sam." 

It  was  noticeable  that  while  Joe  treated  Sam  with  a  rude 
deference  and  respect,  toward  Antoine  he  bore  himself 
with  a  half  contemptuous  condescension  hardly  comport 
ing  with  the  mien  of  the  conquered  in  the  presence  of  the 
conqueror  ;  but  when  their  visitors  had  departed  Antoine 
said,  with  a  grin  of  great  width  and  satisfaction,  "Ant 
you'll  see  haow  good  dat  man's  'have  itsef  every  sin  Ah'll 
leek  it  ?  Dat  was  de  way  for  mek  hugly  mans  be  good, 
you  betteh  b'lieve  so  !" 

The  next  morning's  round  proved  the  spring  crop  of 
muskrats  so- nearly  exhausted  that  the  traps  were  forthwith 
taken  up  and  strung  in  rusty  dozens  for  transportation,  and 
the  disused  tally-sticks  went  drifting  away  to  contribute 
their  mite  of  driftwood  to  various  shores. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  while  Antoine's  comrades  were 
assisting  him  in  the  final  vivisection  of  the  turtle,  a  team 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS,  91 

of  horses  came  in  sight  hauling  a  lumbering  wagon 
slowly  across  the  fields  toward  the  farther  shore  of  the 
Slang. 

"Hello!"  cried  Sam,  "there  comes  aour  baggidge 
waggin.  Whois't  a-drivin'  ?  Jozeff  Hill,  1  guess,  b'  the 
dumplin'  shape  on  him,  an'  the  way  he  jounces  ''raound 
on  the  seat,  toes  jes'  techin'  the  waggin  bottom.  Yes, 
that's  Jozeff, ' '  after  an  intent  consideration  of  the  approach 
ing  teamster,  who  presently  could  be  heard  bumping  out 
snatches  of  tuneless  song  mixed  with  broken  words  of  en 
couragement  and  reproof  to  his  team,  as  they  passed  across 
the  rough  field. 

"  '  Odn  Maadnsfield  Maounting  onct  didn  ndwell-ell, 
N-a  likeli  you-ugh-th  I-ee  knowed  full  well-n,' 

'  "  Git  up,  oF  mare  ! 

"  '  Cur-d-nell  Maaryit's  onli  sodn, 

N-a-a-abaout  the  aage  of  twednti-wodn-n-n.' 

"  Go  'long,  Jim,  why  don't  ye,  con-ugh-sarn  yer  ol' 
pictur'  !  er  be  ye  goin'  t'other  way,  you  ol'  snugent  o'  the 
de-sarts  !" 

Sam  went  over  in  the  dugout  to  meet  him  and  helped 
him  to  unharness  the  horses  and  shelter  and  feed  them  in 
the  shed  of  an  untenanted  barn  that  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  field.  Arriving  at  camp  Joseph  was  cordially  welcomed 
by  the  others,  and  soon  began  to  unladen  himself  of  his 
burden  of  neighborhood  news,  to  hear  which  now  would 
remind  one  of  the  items  of  a  country  paper  of  to-day. 
While  his  late  dinner  was  cooking,  and  while  he  ate  with 
full  enjoyment  the  fried  pickerel,  he  told  them  that  it  had 
been  "a  good  sugarin'  year — fust  chop — wal,  more  'n 
midellin,  anyway,  "  and  undertook  to  tell  how  many  pounds 


92  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

each  neighbor  had  made,  though,  as  usual,  he  was  never 
quite  sure  which  neighbor  it  was,  nor  of  the  number  of 
pounds.  Also,  that  "  Hanner  Ann  Jones  er  her  sister 
Huldy  Jane  was  a  -goin'  to  teach  in  their  deestrick  this 
summer  ;  that  Joel  Bartlett  an'  'mongst  'em  seen  a  bear 
up  on  the  side  o'  Hawg's  Back — big  one  er  little  one, 
didn't  know,  but  they  seen  tew — 'n'  Joel,  he  was  a  gittin' 
ready  to  fix  up  his  haouse — er  mabby  'twas  his  barn — 'n' 
they  was  a-buildin'  tew  three  new  haousen  for  the  work 
men  to  the  forge — goin'  to  du  maricles,  er  more,  to  the 
forge  this  summer,  fer  iron  hed  riz,  er  was  a  goin'  ter. 
His  father's  rheumatiz  was  wus — didn't  know  as  they  was 
raly  wus,  but  he  was  a  sufferin'  more  pain  with  'em,  seem 
's  'ough,  'n'  he  hedn't  no  gret  of  an  ap'tite  t'  eat  much. 
Ol'  Mist'  Pur'nton  he  was  toll'ble  well  this  spring,  an' 
Mis'  Pur'nton  she  was  smarter  'n  a  crickit,  'n'  the  hull 
fam'ly  wus  well,  he  b'lieved,  though  mabby  some  o'  the 
younger  feemale  portion  was  a-gittin'  sorter  lunsome — like 
'nough,  he  didn'  t  know. ' '  Then,  wagging  his  head  toward 
Pelatiah,  without  taking  his  eyes  from  the  not  quite  un 
fleshed  bones  of  the  bit  of  pickerel  in  his  hand  :  "  Pel 
tier's  folks  is  well,  I  b'lieve,  though  they  be  gittin'  sorter 
oneasy  'baout  his  not  comin'  back  hum  ;  guess  they  kinder 
need  him  'baout  spring's  work — do'  know  's  they  'zactly 
need  him,  but  they  kinder  want  him,  er  think  mabby  he 
might  's  well  be  t'  hum,  naow,  er  putty  soon  ;  'n'  An- 
t wine's  folks  an'  young  uns  is  well  an'  hearty,  an'  was  a 
polly  vooin'  like  all  git  aout  when  I  come  along  past  airly 
this  mornin'  ;  I  think  they  was  ;  mabby  'twas  the  frawgs 
a  bellerin'  ov'  t'  the  pawnd,  but  frawgs  hain't  a-bellerin' 
naow  ;  I  guess  'twas  Antwine's  fam'ly  a  polly  vooin'." 
Then,  when  he  was  relieved  of  the  chief  weight  of  his 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  93 

gossip,  he  had  as  great  a  burden  of  questions  to  unload 
concerning  the  luck  and  adventures  of  the  trappers. 

As  evening  drew  on  they  all  began  to  gather  a  pile  of 
wood  to  illuminate  that  night's  bullpout  fishing,  which  was 
to  be  the  great  final  event  of  this  spring's  camp  life,  An- 
toine  had  provided  plenty  of  bait  and  the  angling  outfit  for 
his  friends  after  the  approved  fashion  of  his  own,  except 
that  possibly  some  of  the  poles  were  straighter  than  his  ;  and 
at  dusk  they  lighted  their  fire  and  began  fishing.  The  fish 
were  plenty,  and  blessed  or  cursed  with  good  appetites,  and 
one  after  another,  with  a  sluggish,  stubborn,  downright 
pull  for  life  and  freedom,  was  torn  from  its  watery  hold  and 
came  walloping  and  creaking  to  land.  To  Sam,  Joseph, 
and  Pelatiah  the  unhooking  of  one  was  at  first  a  rather 
perilous  feat,  and  Pelatiah  gave  a  bellow  of  pain  when  his 
finger  was  impaled  by  the  horn  of  his  first  fish.  '  You 
wa'n't  cafne,  Peltiet,"  said  Antoine,  as  the  young  fellow 
came  to  the  fire,  by  turns  sucking  and  inspecting  the 
injured  finger ;  "  dem  bullpawt  he's  bit  pooty  hard  wid 
hees  horn,  Ah  tol'  you  !  Touch  hoi'  of  it  jus'  sam'  lak 
Ah  do,  you  t'umb  an'  fingler  'hind  hees  side  horn,  you 
palm  you  hand  of  it '  fore  hees  top  horn— so.  Den  squeezle 
heem,  haard  !"  and  they  all  soon  got  the  knack  of  it  after 
the  added  lesson  of  some  sorely  punctured  hands. 

The  generously  fed  fire  sent  up  great  tongues  of  flame 
licking  at  the  gloom,  and  showered  an  upward  rain  of 
sparks  into  the  branches  that  waved  and  tossed  in  the  rising 
currents  of  warmed  air.  Across  its  dusky- edged  circle  of 
light,  as  the  fishermen  went  to  and  fro,  fell  elongated 
shadows  of  legs,  here  joined  to  the  gloom  as  if  that  was 
some  enormous  beast  of  undefined  ponderous  form  noise 
lessly  circling  about  the  fire,  there  stretched  from  where  the 


94  SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS. 

distorted,  shadowy  bodies  flitted  like  gigantic  goblins 
among  the  spectral  boles  of  great  trees.  On  the  water  side 
the  poles  and  lines  were  defined  against  the  darkness  with 
seeming  unreality,  as  if  they  were  the  angling  gear  of  pis 
catorial  ghosts  ;  and  when  a  plunging  bait  and  sinker  or  a 
writhing  outdrawn  fish  broke  the  water,  and  wavering  shim 
mers  of  reflected  light  started  forth  and  vanished  in  the 
blank  silence,  it  was  as  if  they  had  broken  on  the  intan 
gible  shores  of  the  land  of  ghosts.  But  by  the  cheerful,  liv 
ing  fire  there  was  life  enough,  and  such  sport  as  satisfied 
these  jolly  but  most  unscientific  anglers. 

By  midnight  they  had  sport  and  bull-heads  enough  to 
have  satisfied  greedier  men  than  they  were,  and  Antoine's 
highest  hopes  were  realized  in  the  catching  of  a  great  eel. 
To  have  heard  him  vituperate  the  unfortunate  fish  while 
he  was  unhooking  it,  one  would  hardly  think  he  valued  it  so 
much.  4<  Oh,  kanfoun'  you,  you  hugly  hoi'  brute  snakes  ! 
What  for  you  ant  lied  steel  an'  let  me  steek  you  'tween 
de  necks,  hein,  you  slaamy  hoi'  coss  ?  You'll  ant  fit  for 
be  decent,  bah  gosh,  all  feesh  hook!  Saay,  you'll  goin' 
be  dead  littly,  naow,  hein?  you  hoi  hugly  !" 

When  he  had  stamped  and  stabbed  it  into  a  quiet  ac 
ceptance  of  fate,  then  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  "  Bah 
gosh  !  if  ma  h woman  don't  happy  to-morroh  naght  w'en 
he'll  got  hees  husbin  come  home  an'  brought  it  bullpawt, 
an'  mud  turkey,  an'  heel,  it  don't  no  uses  for  try  mek  it 
happy  in  dis  worl'." 

Next  morning  the  sleepy  occupants  of  the  shanty  awoke 
late,  and  even  while  Antoine  was  cooking  the  appetizing 
breakfast  of  fish,  the  others  bestirred  themselves  in  making 
ready  for  departure.  And  when  the  breakfast  had  been 
made  speedy  way  with,  the  canoes  began  to  pass  across  the 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  95 

Slang  with  cargoes  of  peltry  and  camp  gear.  By  the  mid- 
die  of  the  forenoon  the  boats  had  made  their  last  trips,  and, 
with  the  baggage,  were  snugly  stowed  on  board  the  wagon, 
the  horses  were  hitched  on,  and  the  homeward  journey  be-  ! 
gan.  All  but  Joseph  Hill,  who  drove,  trudged  beside  and 
behind  the  load  through  the  greening  fields  that  lay  between  ' 
the  Slang  and  the  highway.  They  were  not  very  jolly  as 
they  set  their  faces  toward  their  native  hills,  for  who  ever 
left  a  camp  where  few  or  many  happy  hours  have  been 
spent  without  a  touch  of  regretful  sadness  ?  Even  the 
hound  seemed  touched  with  this  feeling,  and  sent  wistful 
glances  backward  as  he  ranged  the  fields  and  snuffed  the 
faint  odors  of  last  night's  fox  trails.  As  Sam  cast  a  last 
look  on  the  spot  that  had  been  his  home  for  a  month,  a 
bittern's  booming  and  the  lazy  quack  of  a  dusky  duck 
came  from  afar  across  the  hazy  marshes  like  friendly  fare 
wells,  and  the  camp  squirrel  chattered  from  his  favorite 
hemlock  a  not  unkindly  adieu.  A  wreath  of  smoke  flut 
tered  away  from  the  dying  camp-fire  like  a  gauzy  flag  low 
ered  and  trailing  on  the  ground. 

Not  many  days  passed  before  mink  and  skunk  and 
woodchuck  began  boldly  to  visit  the  deserted  shanty,  and 
mouse  and  chipmunk  took  up  their  abode  in  it.  Moss  and 
lichens  began  to  grow  on  the  slowly  rotting  roof,  blades  of 
grass  and  weeds  sprang  up  among  the  brands  and  ashes  of 
the  fireplace,  and  growth  and  decay  began  to  obliterate  the 
traces  of  human  occupancy. 


98  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

b'lieve  it's  newrology  er  rhemmatiz,  which  I've  hed  'em 
both." 

While  Joseph  was  excusing  and  explaining  his  negligence, 
Sam  was  unsealing  his  letter  with  awkward  care,  and  hav 
ing  got  at  its  contents  began  to  read.  This  was  no  easy 
task,  for  the  jolting  of  the  wagon  would  have  made  it  diffi 
cult  to  follow  the  lines  if  the  words  had  been  plainly  writ 
ten  in  the  blackest  ink.  But  the  letter  had  been  begun 
with  pale  ink  and  a  pen  that  either  spluttered  or  refused 
to  make  any  mark,  till  the  writer's  patience  had  been  ex 
hausted,  and  he  had  exchanged  them  fora  hard  lead-pencil, 
that  in  its  normal  condition  left  but  faint  trace  of  its  prog 
ress  over  the  paper,  though  it  had  evidently  been  weightily 
borne  down  upon.  Then  the  chirographer  had  licked  it, 
and  produced  somewhat  more  satisfactory  results,  which 
presently  failing,  he  had  softened  his  obdurate  pencil  with 
a  more  thorough  moistening,  and  succeeded  in  bringing 
out  two  or  three  words  in  a  strong  though  neutral  tint. 
Then  the  lead  would  thirst  by  the  wayside,  perhaps  in  the 
middle  of  a  word,  and  make  but  a  shadowy  record  of  its 
course,  till  again  refreshed.  The  writer's  moments  of 
meditation,  wherein  he  had  pensively  sucked  his  pencil, 
were  marked  by  the  exceeding  distinctness  of  the  following 
word. 

Photography  was  unknown  in  those  days,  but  the  best 
instantaneous  production  of  the  camera  could  hardly  have 
shown  to  Sam  more  vividly  than  this  letter  did  the  picture 
of  his  old  friend  with  elbows  sprawled  over  a  table  and  feet 
hooked  into  the  rungs  of  his  chair,  with  intent,  corrugated 
brow  and  mouth  set  into  a  hard  circle,  around  which  rim 
his  tongue  ran  in  accompaniment  to  the  slow  movement 
of  his  fingers,  more  laboriously  engaged  on  his  sheet  of 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  99 

foolscap,  in  the  production  of  this  letter,  than  he  would 
have  been  in  the  familiar  task  of  cutting  a  side  of  sole 
leather  into  soles  and  taps.  If  Sam's  lips  could  not  for 
bear  a  smile  at  the  homely  picture  which  his  fancy  wrought, 
neither  could  his  eye  withhold  a  mistiness  that  made  dim 
mer  the  scrawled  words.  Reading  them  to  himself,  while 
his  companions  waited  for  what  he  should  give  them  there 
of,  they  ran  in  this  wise  : 

HEGALGAN,  HEGALGAN  Co., 

Wis.  Feb.  the  4th. 
S.  lovil  respected  frend. 

i  take  my  pen  in  hand  to  sect  myself  to  rite  thees  fu  lines  to 
let  you  no  that  i  am  wel  whitch  i  hope  this  may  find  you  the 
saim,  and  all  frends  in  danvis  whitch  godnose  i  wish  to  see  and 
was  in  for  i  do  not  addmire  this  boosted  land  of  westconstant 
none  tue  well  not  to  deny  but  what  it  is  most  frutette  in  abunder- 
ant  crops  and  game  dear  and  wile  tirkees  prayry  chickin  like  the 
patter  ridges  to  homb  but  larjer  and  so  neumerrus  whitch  wood 
sprise  you  to  see  and  delite  to  hunt  not  to  speke  of  fish  in  plenty 
in  the  lake  whitch  shamplane  is  pudil  and  buffalow  not  fur  to  the 
west  thair  paths  and  wollers  remane  and  bones  whitch  was  kill 
by  ingeans  whitch  they  is  plenty  anuff  but  not  danjerous  and  has 
not  skalp  me  tell  josier  hill  nor  bit  by  snaikes  nor  had  feavnage 
tell  him  but  not  this  that  i  do  not  like  the  westconstant  so  mutch 
as  i  ekspekt  i  shud  and  Jerusha  my  wif  is  not  ruggid  and  cherk 
tho  she  take  grate  comfurt  with  georges  childerin  2  nise  boys 
and  2  nise  gals  whitch  take  tue  her  natterly  as  moste  do  that  no 
her  as  you  no  we  are  lonesum  for  the  mowntins  whitch  this 
countray  is  flattern  a  pancake,  nor  no  woods  to  call  woods  nigh 
to  smel  of  a  balsum  a  spruce  a  hemlok  whitch  our  ize  miss  the 
site  and  my  noze  whitch  you  no  not  small  the  smel  now  my 
frend  i  want  you  to  see  joel  bartlit  and  see  if  he  will  take  what 
he  giv  for  the  ole  plase  if  he  will  bargin  for  it  as  if  youself  byin 
i  hav  got  anuff  to  pay  up  i  will  let  you  hav  it  on  sheers  me  and 
Jerusha  to  liv  with  you  and  hulda  til  we  dy  and  you  tacare  of  us 
til  we  dy  and  you  shal  hav  the  plase  then  anser  as  soon  as  you 


100  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

can  and  not  say  nuthing  of  this  to  noboddy  but  hulda  whitch  i 
hope  you  are  marrid  most  happy  your  frend  til  deth 

ELISHA  PEGGS,  p  s 

remember  me  to  all  inqirin  frends  as  if  namd  what  fun  we  will 
hav  in  the  ole  shop  agin  doos  it  look  natteral  or  all  run  down 
jerusha  sens  her  love  to  you  and  speshal  hulda  direk  to  Elisha 
Peggs  in  care  of  George  Peggs  Hegalgan  hegalgan  co.  Wis." 

Visions  of  a  cosey  home  of  his  own  arose  before  Sam  as 
he  read  the  letter  to  himself,  and  still  as  he  read  to  his 
companions  such  portions  as  he  might,  there  floated  before 
his  mind  pleasant  pictures  of  the  future — the  "  house  part" 
of  the  old  couple's  domicile  again  warmed  to  life,  and  a 
brighter  life  than  it  had  ever  known,  the  shop,  with  Uncle 
Lisha  on  his  bench  hammering  merrily  on  his  lap-stone, 
and  the  old  visitors  in  their  chosen  places.  For  a  moment 
it  seemed  almost  a  reality,  then  vanished  like  smoke  in  the 
wind,  as  he  remembered  how  seldom  happy  dreams  are 
realized. 

.The  pale  half  moon  grew  silver  bright  in  the  darkening 
blue,  high  above  clouds  aflame  with  the  sun's  afterglow, 
and  the  clouds  faded  to  pearly  gray,  and  gray  shadows  grew 
black  across  the  moonlit  road  and  fields  as  the  little  party 
journeyed  slowly  homeward,  still  discoursing  of  the  old 
friend  so  freshly  brought  to  mind. 

When  they  entered  the  hamlet  it  had  betaken  itself  to  its 
accustomed  early  sleep,  and  there  was  no  sound  of  life  in 
it  but  the  thunderous  beat  of  its  heart,  the  great  hammer 
of  the  forge,  nor,  except  the  lurid  gleam  of  its  fires,  cast 
athwart  the  street  through  the  wide  doors,  any  light  of  life 
but  the  faint  glimmer  of  a  lamp  in  Hamner's  bar-room, 
and  another  as  faint  in  a  quiet  house,  where  it  was  guessed 
"  someb'dy  was  sick  or  a  sparkin'." 


SA M  LOPZL'S-  OA 

"  Do'  know  raly  which  is  the  wust, "  Joseph  Hill  mused 
aloud  ;  "  sparkin'  is  the  most  pleasantest,  but  it's  full  dan- 
gouser  'n  most  kinds  o'  sickness  ;  seem's  'ough  'twas,  most 
allus."  He  sighed  as  he  cast  a  longing  backward  glance 
to  Hamner's  dim  beacon. 

The  drowsiness  of  the  village  was  infectious,  and  for  the 
next  hour  the  travellers  were  only  kept  half  awake  by  the 
jolting  of  the  wagon,  and  gave  up  all  attempts  at  conver 
sation. 


XL 

THE    HOME    RECEPTION. 

WHEN  they  came  to  the  house  of  Sam's  father,  the  men 
aroused  themselves  to  unload  his  canoe  and  other  effects 
and  bade  him  good-night,  "  or  mebby  good-mornin','' 
Joseph  said,  unwilling  to  commit  himself  even  in  a  parting 
salutation. 

They  went  their  way,  and  left  him  ' '  on  the  chips, ' '  which 
were  the  only  garniture  of  the  untidy  yard.  Sam  sighed 
as  he  turned  from  watching  the  departure  of  the  wagon 
and  cast  a  look  over  the  house  he  called  his  home.  Its 
nakedness  and  unthrift  were  as  drearily  apparent  in  the 
faint  light  of  the  clouded  moon  as  in  the  glare  of  day.  It 
had  never  looked  homelike  since  his  mother  died,  for  the 
kindly  touches  of  her  brave  but  feeble  hand  had  been 
quickly  effaced  by  the  shrew  who,  with  unseemly  haste, 
was  installed  in  her  place. 

"  If  she'd  lived,"  Sam  said  to  himself,  pitying  his  un 
cared-for  childhood,  "  mebby  I'd  ha'  ben  suthin'  better 'n 
a  loafin',  shifless,  huntin',  fishin'  cretur.  'Fl'd  hed  her 
an'  a  hum  'at  was  a  hum  !  But  mebby  it's  better  for  her 
as  'tis  ;  the'  wa'n't  much  comfort  for  her  here,  I  guess," 
and  he  pitied  her  hard  life  more  than  his  own.  "  Mebby 
a  womern  c'n  du  suthin'  forme  yit. "  Standing  on  the 
rotting  step  at  the  kitchen  door  he  glanced  upward  and  saw 
the  old  familiar  oval  plate  of  tin  on  the  lintel  with  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  103 

word  "  Mutual  "  upon  it,  and  remembered  how  when  he 
was  a  boy  and  could  first  read  it,  it  gave  him  a  feeling  of 
kinship  with  the  world  of  Danvis,  for  there  was  not  a  well- 
to  do  farmer  in  the  township  that  had  not  this  seal  of  the 
insurance  company  set  upon  it.  There  was  one  over  the 
door  of  the  Purington  homestead,  and  it  made  his  heart 
beat  quick  to  think  that  he  would  pass  under  it  to  morrow 
night.  There  was  one  at  Joel  Bartlett's,  but  not  above  the 
entrance,  for  Joel  felt  it  borne  in  upon  him  that  such  a 
display  of  gilded  letters  would  be  entirely  out  of  plainness, 
and  had  made  the  insurance  agent  nail  the  plate  behind 
the  kitchen  door,  where  it  was  seldom  seen.  He  must  see 
Joel  Bartlett  to-morrow  and  learn  if  there  was  any  chance 
of  buying  back  the  old  place. 

He  raised  the  latch  of  the  unfastened  door  and  pushed 
it  open  as  quickly  as  its  creaking  hinges  and  sagged  condi 
tion  would  let  even  him,  who  had  learned  so  well  its  tell-tale 
tricks.  When  he  had  closed  it  he  listened  a  moment,  but 
heard  no  sound  that  betokened  the  awakening  of  the  in 
mates.  There  were  only  the  slow  and  squeaky  ticking  of  the 
tall  clock,  the  purring  of  the  cat  under  the  cold  stove,  the 
gnawing  of  a  mouse  somewhere  in  the  woodwork,  as  mice 
had  always  been  gnawing  since  he  could  remember  sounds, 
and  the  gasping,  intermittent  snoring  of  his  father,  that  used 
years  ago  to  make  his  heart  stand  still  as  he  lay  listening  in 
his  lonely  bed,  wondering  if  the  last  explosive  expiration 
was  not  final  and  he  the  most  forlorn  of  orphans. 

Taking  from  its  box  on  the  mantelpiece  a  home-made 
brimstone  match,  and  lighting  it  with  a  coal  raked  from  the 
ashes,  he  lighted  the  slender  dip  candle  which  he  found  in 
its  accustomed  place  by  the  match-box,  and  as  its  feeble 
light  illumined  the  kitchen's  tidy  discomfort,  the  bare 


104  SAM  LOVE  US  CAMPS. 

walls,  newly  whitewashed,  the  few  well  scrubbed  wooden- 
seated  chairs,  the  big  table,  Sam  comprehended  at  a  glance, 
as  he  hung  the  Ore  Bed  on  its  hooks,  that  house-cleaning  was 
over,  and  was  thankful  that  his  return  was  so  well  timed. 

The  slight  sounds  of  his  entrance  had  not  awakened  his 
stepmother ;  perhaps  it  was  the  light  that  aroused  her, 
perhaps  it  was  the  clatter  of  Drive's  toe  nails  as  he  sniffed 
an  inventory  of  the  room's  contents,  perhaps  the  rattle  of 
her  cherished  crockery,  when  Sam  explored  the  pantry 
shelves  in  search  of  something  for  himself  and  Drive  to  eat, 
but  just  then  her  voice  flashed  out  sharply  : 

"Who's  that?" 

"  It's  me,"  he  answered,  and  asked,  "  haowbe  ye  all  ?" 

"  Me  !  }is,  an'  high  time  'at  '  me'  come  hum,  I  sh'd 
think  !"  she  snarled  in  a  sleepy  voice  ;  "  but  I  do'  know 
's  the'  was  any  p'tic'lar  need  o'  sneakin'  in  in  the  dead  o' 
night,  when  the's  jes'  's  many  days  's  the's  nights  ; 
awakin'  up  folks  'at  hevs  tu  work  stiddy,  instid  ofshoolin' 
' mound a-trappin',  an'  a-huntin',  an'  a-thisin'  an'  a-thatin', 
so  's  'tain't  work.  Make  thet  'ere  pleggid  haoun  dawg 
lay  daown,  a-trompoosin'  over  my  clean  kitchin  floor  'at 
I've  scrubbed  and  scaoured  half  a  day." 

"  Here,  Drive/'  Sam  said,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  her 
tirade,  "  here's  a  col'  johnny-cake,  an'  I'll  d'vide  wi'  ye." 

"  O  dear  me,  suz  !"  groaned  Mrs.  Lovel,  "  I  wish  't 
the'  wa'n't  none  o'  them  pleggid  men  in  this  livin'  worl, 
erless  I  wish  't  I  was  dead." 

"  Seein'  't  the'  so  many  more  on  'em  'an  the'  is  o' 
you,  I'd  take  the  cheapest  way  tu  git  clear  on  'em  'f  I 
was  you,  marm,"  said  Sam,  taking  a  mouthful  of  johnny- 
cake  and  dropping  as  generous  a  piece  into  Drive's  alert 
jaws. 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS:  105 

"  I  won't  die  tu  please  you,"  she  snapped,  smothering 
the  last  word  in  the  blankets  as  she  settled  herself  in  the  bed, 
whose  sudden  spiteful  creak  proclaimed  that  she  would 
vouchsafe  no  further  speech. 

"  She  sartinly  never  done  much  tu,"  Sam  said  to  him 
self,  as  he  gave  his  dog  the  last  morsel  of  their  fiugal  supper. 

His  father,  who  had  not  deemed  it  prudent  to  appear 
earlier,  now  came  forth,  very  quietly,  a  queer  figure  in  a 
short  red  flannel  shirt  astilt  on  long  bare  legs,  bringing  to 
mind  the  old  simile  of  a  "  shirt  on  a  bean  pole. "  While 
he  scratched  his  side  with  a  scant  handful  of  flannel, 
he  welcomed  his  son  with  a  pleasant  smile  and  a  whis 
pered, 

"Wai,  Sam  will,  haow  air  ye?  Hed  good  luck,  an' 
kep'  well,  hev  ye  ?" 

"Yes;  an'  be  you  well,  father?"  Sam  answered  and 
asked  in  a  whisper,  scanning  the  old  man's  weak,  kindly 
face. 

"  Find  suthin'  t'  eat?  The's  some  pork  an'  beans  in 
there  some'eres,"  indicating  the  pantry  by  a  sidewise  nod. 
"  Do'  know  where  she  put  'em.  Hey,  Drive,  good  ol' 
feller  I"  he  whispered,  stooping  to  pat  the  hound  very 
softly.  "You  better  keep  middlin'  still,  ol'  feller!"  as 
Drive's  friendly  tail-beats  smote  chairs  and  wall.  "  Wai, 
I  guess  I'll  be  crawlin'  back.  She's  putty  nigh  beat  aout 
a-haouse  cleanin',  an'  so  be  I." 

Sam  took  Drive  to  his  bed  in  the  barn,  and  then  sought 
his  own  in  the  cheerless  kitchen  chamber.  Home  was 
home  after  all,  and  he  settled  himself  to  sleep  under  the 
sloped  ceiling  with  a  sense  of  usage,  if  not  of  perfect  con 
tent,  in  which  there  was  a  degree  of  comfort.  In  his 
dreams  he  was  a  boy  again,  and  his  mother's  toilworn  hand 


io6  SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS. 

caressed  his  weary  head  with  the  kindly,  unforgotten  touch 
of  the  nights  of  long  ago. 

As  soon  as  might  be  next  day  he  sought  an  interview 
with  Joel  Baitlett,  and  after  much  roundabout  talk  con 
cerning  weather  and  crop  prospects  broached  the  real  ob 
ject  of  his  visit.  He  was  not  disappointed  when  Joel  re 
fused  to  dispose  of  the  Uncle  Lisher  place  at  the  price  he 
had  given  for  it,  for  that  was  not  the  thrifty  saint's  way  of 
doing  business.  But  when  he  offered  an  advance  of  fifty 
dollars,  then  of  seventy-five,  and  finally  of  a  hundred  dol 
lars,  and  each  offer  was  promptly  refused  with  a  declara 
tion  that  Joel  "  did  not  feel  clear  tu  sell  at  no  price  likely 
tu  be  gi'n  him,  bein'  it  come  in  so'well  with  his  own  farm, 
which  it  was  onct  a  part  on,  Ihe  original  tew-hunderd  acre 
pitch  drawed  tu  the  right  o'  Hezekier  Varney,  which  he  in 
some  ways  foolishly  got  red  on,"  Sam  turned  away,  his 
heart  heavy  with  hope  deferred.  Not  yet,  as  he  had  per 
mitted  himself  to  hope,  was  the  door  of  a  real  home  open 
ing  to  Huldah  and  him. 

That  night  the  lovers  built  nothing  so  grand  as  a  castle 
in  the  air,  only  a  snug  log-house  up  among  the  cheaply 
valued  acres  of  woodland  that  Sam's  small  savings  would 
buy.  Better  that,  they  said,  than  going  to  the  West,  far 
from  kindred  and  old  friends  and  the  beloved  Green 
Mountains. 

The  neighbors  remarked  that  "  Sam  Lovel  hedn't  never 
took  a  holt  so  afore  as  he  did  in  this  spring's  work." 

But  when  the  slack  came  after  planting,  the  old  wild 
spirit  laid  hold  of  him.  "  I  got  tu  go  daovvn  there  a-fish- 
in'  jest  oncte,"  was  his  answer  to  his  sweetheart's  opposing 
arguments. 


SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

THE   CAMP  ON  THE  LAKE. 


I. 
VOYAGE    DOWN    LITTLE   OTTER. 

FOLLOWING  out  a  plan  conceived  during  his  spring  cam 
paign  on  the  Slang,  when  he  had  been  amazed  at  the  num 
bers,  size,  and  variety  of  fishes  inhabiting  Champlain 
waters,  Sam  Lovel  and  some  of  his  friends  with  a  wagon- 
load  of  camping  outfit  were  one  day  slowly  jolting  down 
the  steep,  winding  road  to  the  landing  below  the  first  falls 
on  Little  Otter. 

It  was  one  of  those  lazy  afternoons  in  June  when  all 
nature  basks  in  the  new  warmth  and  nothing  seems  better 
to  all  things  than  to  be  still  and  enjoy  laziness,  The  bull 
frogs  sitting  on  the  rafted  logs  at  the  mill  tail  only  winked 
their  enjoyment  of  sunshine  as  they  dozed  beside  their 
voiceless  brothers,  the  little  turtles.  A  kingfisher  sat  mo 
tionless  on  a  fishing-stake,  apparently  regardless  of  the 
swarm  of  minnows  poised  beneath  him.  A  big  fish,  find 
ing  himself  floating  too  near  the  glassy  surface,  broke  it 
with  a  languid  flap  of  his  tail  as  he  sought  cooler  depths, 
the  slow  wavelets  just  stirring  the  young  water  weeds  and 
lapsing  softly  on  the  shores.  High  overhead  a  hen  hawk 


loS  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

swung  in  a  wide  circle  as  slowly  as  swept  the  lazy  drift  of 
silver  clouds  above  him,  and  almost  at  rest  upon  the  wing. 
The  voices  of  the  birds  were  hushed  ;  the  merry  bobolinks 
jangled  only  occasional  snatches  of  song  in  the  meadows, 
where  loitering  strawberry-pickers  lounged  in  the  long 
shadows  of  trees,  and  a  wood  pewee  in  the  great  elm  over 
the  mill  was  the  only  one  of  the  thousand  singers  that  sang 
continuously,  and  his  sweet,  pensive  notes  seemed  like  the 
fragrance  of  flowers,  more  exhaled  than  sung.  The  per 
vading  spirit  of  indolence  had  fallen  upon  mankind  as 
well.  The  miller  lounged  in  the  doorway  of  his  mill  with 
no  sign  of  his  vocation  but  the  dust  on  his  garments,  while 
no  sound  was  in  the  misty  precincts  but  the  drowsy  mur 
mur  of  the  waste  water  dribbling  from  the  flume  ;  and  from 
the  wide  portals  of  the  sawmill  only  at  rare  intervals  was 
heard  the  creak  of  the  sawgate,  the  swish  of  the  saw  eating 
its  way  through  the  log,  and  the  clink  of  the  ratchet  in  the 
rag  wheel  ;  and  the  sawyer  only  moved  from  his  jerky  seat 
on  the  log  when  it  had  brought  him  into  dangerous  prox 
imity  to  the  saw,  reluctantly,  and  wishing  the  log  was 
longer.  Then  he  arose  and  leaned  lazily  against  the  lever 
that  sent  the  carriage  on  its  backward  course  to  its  starting 
place,  and  after  due  deliberation  set  the  log  up  an  inch 
sidewise,  dogged  it  in  place  with  slow  strokes,  and  when 
he  could  think  of  no  pretext  for  longer  delaying,  hoisted 
the  gate  and  set  the  squeak  and  swish  and  clink  a-going 
again  and  fresh  terebinthine  and  balsamic  odors  afloat  on 
the  air.  Women  lolled  in  doorways  with  elbows  on  knees 
looking  intently  at  nothing,  while  children,  too  young  to 
be  at  school,  were  taking  their  afternoon  nap.  But  the 
curiosity  of  these  good  people  was  awakened  and  unwont- 
edly  stirred  by  the  arrival  of  Sam's  party,  for  a  camping 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  109 

outfit  was  an  unusual  sight  in  those  days,  when  camping 
was  not  in  fashion  with  those  who  were  considered  quite 
respectable.  Only  white  vagabonds  and  bands  of  Ca 
nadian  Indians  who  had  not  much  better  shelter  at  home 
were  supposed  to  live  in  shanties  and  tents  for  the  pleasure 
of  it,  even  in  the  pleasantest  weather.  Perhaps  the  mem 
ory  of  the  hardships  of  the  pioneers,  some  of  the  younger 
of  whom  were  yet  living,  was  not  enough  obliterated  for 
such  primitive  ways  of  life  to  seem  at  all  desirable  to  their 
descendants.  At  any  rate,  the  folks  about  the  falls  wondered 
to  see  such  decent-looking  men  as  these  coming  of  their 
own  free  will  to  take  boat  here  to  go  to  the  lake  for  some 
days  of  vagabondizing.  This  they  signified  their  intention 
of  doing  when  the  miller  and  the  sawyer  with  moderate 
haste  drew  near,  with  some  others  who  suddenly  emerged 
from  neighboring  houses,  rubbing  the  traces  of  recent 
slumber  from  their  eyes. 

Sam  inquired  for  the  owner  of  a  roomy  boat  to  take 
their  effects  to  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  and  the  miller  look 
ing  at  the  sawyer,  said,  "  Wai,  there's  ol*  Uncle  Tyler  hes 
got  a  tollable  big  scaow  boat,  an'  hain't  nothin'  much  t' 
du.  Mebby  he'd  take  ye  daown  t'  the  san'bar.  S'pose  he 
would,  Sargent  ?' ' 

"  Yaas,  I  sh'  think  like  'nough  he  would." 

"  Yes,  he'll  du  it,"  the  miller  said  very  confidently  now. 

"  Coin'  fishin'  ?  Thought  most  likely  ye  was.  Uncle 
Tyler  lives  up  y under  in  that  leetle  haouse  wi'  the  linter 
on  the  west  side  on  't — that  leetle  heater  piece  is  his'n,  an' 
there  he  is  a-pokin'  raound  in  his  garding.  There,  he's, 
comin'  daown  t'  see  what's  a-goin'  on — thought  he  would 
— hain't  nothin'  else  t'  du.  Most  on  us  putty  busy  this 
time  o'  year;  ha'  no  time  tu  befoolin'  raound  day-times. " 


no  SAM  LOVEL'S    CAMPS. 

"  So  I  see,"  Sam  said.  "  C'n  we  git  someb'dy  t'  keep 
aour  bosses  a  week  er  so  ?" 

"Wai,  Sargent's  got  a  parstur  handy/'  the  miller  re 
plied,  questioning  the  sawyer  with  his  eyes. 

:<  Jump  ?"   Sargent  asked. 

"No,  sir,"  Sam  answered;  "do'  wantu,  an'  can't," 
which  statement  the  subdued  mien  of  the  ancient  and 
clumsy  animals  seemed  to  verify.  So  a  bargain  was  made 
with  the  sawyer  for  their  keep,  and  Uncle  Tyler  being 
now  present,  bestowing  a  slow,  senile,  lop-jawed  stare  im 
partially  on  each  of  the  newcomers,  negotiations  were 
entered  into  with  him.  ' '  They  wantu  hire  yer  boat  tu 
take  'em  daown  tu  the  san'bar,"  the  miller  shouted  with 
great  distinctness,  making  it  apparent  that  Uncle  Tyler 
was  hard  of  hearing.  "  Your  boat  !  san'bar  !"  yet  louder 
and  pointing  to  the  scow  drawn  up  among  the  willows, 
and  then  down  the  creek. 

"  Ooo-h  !"  said  Uncle  Tyler,  slowly  looking  them  over 
again.  "  Where' d  ye  say  ye  come  from  ?" 

"  Hain't  said,"  Sarn  answered. 

"  Stanstead  ?  Why,  that's  way  up  beyund  Canerdy 
line  !  Hoss  thieves  up  there  !"  Uncle  Tyler  said  severely, 
turning  the  focus  of  his  dull  stare  on  to  the  horses. 

"We — live — up — tu — Danvis,"  Sam  proclaimed  with 
slow  and  loud  distinctness. 

"Ooo-h!  Danby  !"  said  Uncle  Tyler,  "'way  saouth 
o'  here — Quaker  taown.  Haow  come  ye  t'  come  'way  up 
here  ?  Hain't  Quakers,  be  ye  ?" 

"  Dan-ws,"  Sam  roared. 

"  Oh,  ooo-h,  yis  !  Danvis,  yis,  yis,  over  here,"  and  the 
old  man  pointed  vaguely  eastward.  Sam  nodded  assent. 
"Yis,  yis,  Danvis,"  Uncle  Tyler  repeated;  "Danvis; 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  in 

got  relations  up  there,  er  my  ol'  woman  has  ;  'maounts  tu 
'baout  the  same  thing,  gen' ally— name  o'  White — White 
by  name  but  not  by  natur' — dark-complected  folks  ;  know 
'em  ?" 

Yes,  Sam  knew  a  family  answering  to  that  name  and 
description. 

"  Yis,  I  guess  I  c'n  take  ye  daown  termorrer  mornin', 
arter  breakfus.  Sh'll  want  a  little  suthin'  for't ;  orter  be 
workin'  in  my  gardin — weeds  jest  a-bilin'  up  aouten  the 
airth  naow.  S'pose  yer  willin'  tu  pay  reson'ble?  Hev 
ye  got  any  terbarker  ''at's  fit  tu  smoke?  I  meant  tu  ha' 
sent  up  t'  the  store  an'  got  me  some,  but  I  forgot  it." 
While  the  price  of  Uncle  Tyler's  prospective  services  was 
being  fixed  upon,  and  he  was  filling  his  pipe  from  Sam's 
blue  paper  of  "  long  cut,"  Antoine  returned  from  an  in 
spection  of  the  craft  in  the  harbor,  rejoicing  as  if  he  had 
met  an  old  friend.  "Say,  Sam  !"  he  cried,  "you  ant 
b'lieved  it.  Ah' 11  fan'  dat  sam'  raf  we  was  helped  it  dem 
feller  buil'  las'  spring  !  Yas,  sah  ;  bah  gosh  !  He'll  got 
dat  lett'  on  en'  of  log  of  it,  feesh  hook,  an'  hoxin's  yoke  !" 

"  J.  B,"  Sam  suggested. 

'Yas!  yas  !  Wai,  seh,  Sam,  'f  Ah' 11  can'  haire  aout 
some  boats,  Ah'll  goin'  borried  dat  raf  s  an'  pole  heem 
daown  de  crik,  hein  ?" 

"  I  guess,  Antwine,  'at  necessiation  won't  impel  us  tu 
sech  ways  o'  navigation, ' '  said  Solon  Briggs,  glad  of  an  op 
portunity  to  let  these  proud  lowlanders  know  that  although 
he  lived  among  the  mountains,  he  was  not  to  be  outdone  in 
the  elegant  use  of  their  common  language  by  any  one  in 
the  lake  region,  "  for  Sammywell  is  a-negotiratin'  with  this 
elderly  an-cient  gentleman  tu  export  us  an'  aour  defects 
in  a  occupacious  boat  o'  his'n. " 


112  SAM  LOVEL  S   CAMPS. 

When  he  had  done  Joseph  Hill  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief, 
and  said  aside  to  Sam,  "  Wai,  I  swan  !  I  begin  tu  be 
afeared  'at  Solon  'ould  git  stuck,  an'  never  git  red  of  all 
that  'thout  chokin'  !  I'll  be  gol  dum'd  'f  his  thrut  hain't 
the  size  of  a  saw  lawg  ;  not  quite  the  size  o'  some  o'  these 
mebby,"  slowly  measuring  with  his  eye  some  of  the  largest 
logs  piled  in  the  mill  yard,  "  but  the  size  of  a  middlin'- 
sized,  sorter  sizerble  saw  lawg." 

Arrangements  were  made  with  Uncle  Tyler  to  take  the 
most  cumbersome  of  their  baggage  to  the  lake  in  his  scow 
next  morning,  and  accommodations  for  the  night  were 
found  for  the  party  at  the  miller's  house.  The  remainder 
of  the  day  was  passed  by  them  in  comfortable  lounging 
about  the  neighborhood  of  the  mills,  watching  the  boys 
catching  rock  bass  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids,  themselves  tak 
ing  a  hand  occasionally  in  the  sport  of  capturing  these  vig 
orous  biters,  and  in  informing  themselves  concerning  a 
desirable  camping  ground,  and  the  best  places  for  fishing. 

"  You  c'n  fish  anywheres  't  the's  water  'n'  ketch 
suthin'  'nuther,"  said  the  miller,  "  but 'f  you  want  a  ri' 
daown  good  campin'  place,  arter  you  git  beyund  the  Slab 
Hole,  you  turn  int'  the  left,  on  the  wes'  side  o'  the  crik, 
'posite  the  san'bar,  where  the's  a  lot  o'  willers,  an'  you'll 
find  the  neatest  place  7t  you  ever  see  !  Ye  needn't  build 
ye  no  shanty,  for  the's  rocks  a-hangin'  over  'at' 11  shelter 
ye,  an'  the's  lots  o'  cedar  browse  tu  make  yer  beds  on, 
an'  wood  !  the  Slab  Hole's  full  on't— lawgs,  an'  slabs,  an' 
sticks  o'  fo'  foot  wood,  'n'  everything,  I'm  kin'lin'  tu  back 
lawgs.  An'  there  ye  be,  right  t'  the  lake,  'n'  right  t'  the 
crick,  an'  Lewis  Crik  an'  the  seinin'  graound  not  mor'n 
a  quart'  of  a  mild  off  !" 

Uncle    Tyler's   appointed    hour    of    departure,     "  arter 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  113 

breakfus,"  came  in  good  time,  and  the  party  was  afloat 
not  long  after  sunrise.  Sam  and  Antoine  led  the  flotilla 
in  the  birch  and  dugout,  which  had  been  transported  from 
Danvis  on  their  wagon,  and  Uncle  Tyler,  Solon,  and 
Joseph  were  captain  and  crew  of  the  scow.  The  old  man 
steered  with  a  paddle,  and  struggled  with  his  latest  bor 
rowed  pipeful  of  damp  plug  tobacco,  while  each  of  the 
others  manned  an  oar  and  wrestled  desperately  with  it,  for 
rowing  was  a  new  and  painful  experience  for  them.  Now 
they  "  caught  crabs,"  and  now  they  dug  the  bottom  with 
the  oar  blades,  bringing  up  on  them  specimens  of  aquatic 
plants  that  would  have  rejoiced  the  heart  of  a  botanist  ; 
and  they  bumped  their  noses  and  their  knees  with  the 
handles,  while  the  splashing  of  the  water,  the  creaking  and 
thumping  of  the  clumsy  oars,  and  the  grunting  and  puffing 
of  the  rowers,  intermingled  with  the  directions  of  the 
helmsman,  delivered  in  the  loud,  unmodulated  tone  that 
deaf  persons  are  apt  to  use,  made  a  confusion  of  sounds 
most  wonderful  to  hear.  If  the  ancient  mariner  laid  aside 
his  paddle  for  a  moment  to  give  his  pipe  its  often-needed 
lighting,  Solon's  oar  was  sure  to  be  midway  in  or  at  the 
beginning  of  a  stroke,  while  Joseph's  blade  was  pointing 
at  some  quarter  of  the  heavens  between  the  zenith  and  the 
horizon,  and  presently  the  scow  was  headed  for  the  shore, 
her  bottom  brushing  over  the  young  rushes  and  sedges  of 
the  marsh.  "  For  mass/s  sake  i  didn't  nary  one  on  ye 
never  have  a  holt  of  a  noar  afore  ?"  he  would  shout,  as  with 
lateral  sweeps  of  his  paddle  he  got  the  boat  upon  her  course 
again.  "  Don't  dip  so  deep  !  Keep  the  blades  o' yer  oars 
jest  onderneath  the  water — but  ye  got  tu  stick  'em  in  the 
water  !  ye  can't  row  in  the  air  !"  as  one  of  them  skinned 
the  surface  with  his  blade.  "  Oh,  for  massy' s  sake  !  can't 


H4  SAM   LOVELS   CAMPS. 

ye  hear  nothin',  er  can't  ye  onderstan'  nothin'  ?"  The  old 
man's  patience  was  almost  exhausted,  when  his  pipe,  turn 
ing  over  in  the  unstable  grip  of  his  gums,  emptied  its  now 
well-fired  contents  upon  his  knee,  unnoticed  till  it  burned 
through  his  trousers  to  his  leg.  "  O  massy  !  I  thought  I 
smelt  suthin'  a-burnin'  !''  he  cried,  slapping  wildly  at  the 
smouldering  fire.  His  pipe  dropped  and  was  shivered  at  his 
feet,  and  just  then  Joseph  missed  a  stroke  into  which  he  had 
put  much  strength  and  good  intention,  and  went  sprawling 
heels  up  in  the  bottom  of  the  scow,  while  his  oar  blade 
came  down  with  a  thud  on  Uncle  Tyler's  pate. 

"  Be  ye  tryin'  ter  kill  me,  er  what  be  ye  tryin'  t'  du  ? 
Breakin'  my  pipe,  an'  a-knockin'  on  me  in  the  head,  an' 
a-burnin'  on  me  up  alive  !  Gimme  a  holt  o'  them  oars, 
an'  git  aout  o'  that  mighty  quick  i"  crawling  over  the  bag 
gage  toward  them.  *'  Lay  daown — er  git  aout  an'  go 
afoot!  I  don't  keer  a  dum  mite  which!  Ketch  me 
a-goin'  a-bwutin'  agin  along  o'  a  passel  o'  idjits  'at  do' 
know  a  noar  f'm  a  pudd'n'  stick  i  Ye  can't  row  a  bwut 
no  more' n  a  goose  c'n  gobble  i" 

One  bestowed  himself  in  the  bow,  the  other  in  the  stern, 
while  the  old  man,  as  speechless  with  wrath  as  they  were 
with  mortification,  sent  the  boat  forward  with  long,  even 
strokes  that  made  the  water  surge  under  her  broad  bow. 
The  young  lily  pads  danced  madly  on  the  waves  of  her 
wake,  and  the  little  whirlpools  that  spun  away  from  the  oars 
twisted  into  tangles  the  slender  new  leaves  of  wild  rice  and 
engulfed  fleets  of  water  beetles. 

The  commotion  on  board  the  larger  craft  had  caused 
Sam  and  Antoine  to  cease  paddling  and  wait  to  ascertain 
the  cause. 

"  What  hail  dat  hoi'  can'  hear  not' ing  man  ?"   Antoine 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  115 

asked  as  they  looked  back.  "  He'll  don't  goin'  t'row 
Solem  an'  Zhozeff  board  over,  ant  it  ?  Oh,  bah  gosh  ! 
Ah' 11  bet  you  head  Ah' 11  know  what  was  de  matter  be! 
Dey'll  can't  roar  !" 

"  Wai,  by  the  gret  horn  spoon  !  I  sh'd  think  by  the 
saound  'at  he  c'ld  roar  'nough  for  the  hull  three  on 
'em  i"  said  Sam,  as  the  steady  rumble  of  Uncle  Tyler's 
angry  bawling  came  over  the  water. 

"  Oh,  Ah' 11  ant  meant  roar,  a  nowse  !  Ah' 11  meant 
r-r-roar  dat  hoi'  boats  wid  r-roar  i  Ant  you'll  on'stan', 
hein  ?  Ah'll  ant  never  see  langwizhe  lak  Angleesh, 
me  !" 

"  Wai,  Antwine,  I  never  did  nuther — not  as  you  speak 
it."  The  scow  seemed  to  be  making  fair  progress  now, 
and  they  went  on  their  way. 

Solon,  after  long  and  intent  study  of  the  Tyler  method 
of  handling  the  oars,  at  last  said:  "  I  du  raly  b'lieve, 
Jozeff,  'at  I  hev  got  a  clear  an'  intercate  idee  of  the  modus 
upperdandy,  as  they  say  in  Latin,  an'  'at  I  c'ld  naow, 
arter  a  leetle  practyse,  expel  this  boat  putty  nigh  as  rapid 
as  what  he  does." 

"  Wai,  it  looks  tollable  easy,  but  I  hain't  faound  it  so — 
that  is,  not  so  turrible  easy,"  said  Joseph. 

"  Naow,  she's  a  goin'  !  "  proclaimed  Uncle  Tyler,  un 
conscious  of  their  conversation,  and  sending  a  grim  but 
somewhat  mollified  glance  fore  and  aft. 

"She?"  queried  Solon,  after  scanning  each  distant 
shore,  "who's  she?  I  don't  discover  no  one  of  the 
femaline  sect  nowheres." 

"  What  she  is  a-goin'  ?"  Joseph  shouted  at  Uncle 
Tyler. 

"Hey?     Oh,   massy  sakes   alive!      I  never  see  such 


n6  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

dum'd  ign'nt  creeters.  Why,  this  bwut  is  '  she. '  It  hain't 
he,  is  it  ?"  and  the  old  man  was  obliged  to  quit  rowing  a 
moment  to  unburden  himself  of  wheezy  laughter. 

"  ^hat  is  a  most  cur'osity  idee,"  Solon  said,  after  some 
consideration  of  the  subject,  "  a-speakin'  of  a  onhumern, 
onanimit  boat  as  if  it  belonged  tu  any  sect.  I  don't  see 
nothin'  phillysoffycable  in  it  \" 

"  Wai,"  Joseph  said,  "  I  do'  know.  Mebby  it's  'cause 
if  they  take  a  notiern  tu  go,  they're  a-goin',  an'  if  they 
don't,  they  hain't,  erless  a  feller  knows  haow  tu  make 
'em  'thaout.lettin'  on  'em  think  they'rebein'  made,  which 
it  is  a  knack  'at  few  on  us  hes — er  mebby  it's  'cause  they 
take  a  feller  jest  where  they're  a  minter — I  do'  know." 

"  It  proberbly  deriginated  someway  aout  o'  their  con- 
trairiness.  Haowevertheless,  it  'pears  tu  me  it  'ould  be 
more  properer  tu  call  'em  '  he,'  bein'  'at  they  hev  starns, 
which  men  is  spoke  of  frequent  as  the  '  starn  sect. 

"An'  then  there's  the  baows,  tu.  Women  allus 
curcheys. " 

"That's  the  way  to  row  a  bwut!"  Uncle  Tyler  said, 
only  knowing  by  the  motion  of  their  lips  that  they  were 
speaking,  and  imagining  that  they  were  expressing  admi 
ration  of  his  skill. 

"Coin'  ahead  looks  easy  'nough,"  Joseph  said,  pon 
dering,  "but  s'posin'  a  feller  wanted  ter  hev  him — no, 
'  she  '  is  what  he  calls  the  dum'd  ol'  thing — hev  her  go 
t'other  way,  what's  goin'  ter  be  did  then  ?  What  d'  yer 
du  when  ye  wanter  back  her?"  loudly  addressing  the 
ancient  mariner. 

"  Hey  ?"  he  shouted,  suddenly  alert  and  resting  on  his 
oars.  "  Want  terbacker  ?  Course  I  du,  but  ye  broke  my 
pipe,  an'  I  can't  smoke  ''thaout  you  lem  me  have  yourn, 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  117 

an'  I  hain't  got  no  terbacker  ;  meant  tu  sent  up  In  the 
store  an'  got  me  some  yist'd'y,  but  I  forgot  it." 

Joseph  began  whittling  a  plug  of  tobacco,  and  filling  his 
own  pipe,  handed  it  with  flint  and  steel  and  a  bit  of  punk 
to  the  old  man,  who,  dropping  his  oars,  at  once  set  himself 
to  lighting  it.  "  Ol'  as  he  is,  he  hain't  forgot  haow  tu 
suck,"  Joseph  remarked  in  an  ordinary  tone  as  he  watched 
him  pulling  at  the  pipe  with  resounding  smacks.  "  Don't 
ye  see  the  sparks  a-comin'  aouten  his  ears  ?  I  do'  know  as 
I  see  the  sparks,  ezackly,  but  I'm  sartin  I  du  the  smoke." 

"  That's  the  way  tu  row  a  bwut  i"  Uncle  Tyler  repeated 
when,  having  got  his  pipe  in  satisfactory  blast,  he  resumed 
the  oars  and  sent  the  scow  snoring  on  its  way.  The  sound 
of  its  progress  was  not  unlike  the  heavy  breathing  of  a 
sound  sleeper,  the  long,  grating  squeak  of  the  swivels  sim 
ulating  the  indrawing  of  the  breath,  the  gurgling  swish  of 
the  water  during  the  stroke,  its  exhalation.  "  It's  jest  as 
ea-sy  !" 

"  I  know  it  is,"  said  Joseph,  "  leastways,  I  think  it  is, 
tu  look  at  it.  I  c'ld  set  an'  look  at  ye  duin'  on't,  an' 
never  git  the  least  mite  tired  ;  an'  I  do'  know  but  what  I 
c'ld  larn,  jest  a-settin'  an'  a-watchin'  on  ye.  Anyways, 
I'm  willin'  tu  try  larnin'  that  way  a  spell.  Golly  blue  !" 
inspecting  his  palms,  "  the's  blisters  on  my  han's  bigger' n 
ac'rns,  an'  a  dum  sight  tenderer  !  That  ol'  dried-up  crit 
ter  hain't  juice  'nough  in  his  hull  carkiss  tu  make  one  sech 
blister.  Mebby  the*  is  in  his  hull  carkiss,  but  the'  hain't 
in  his  han's,  I  don't  b'lieve.  An'  his  back  hes  got  jest 
the  right  hump  for  the  business.  Tell  ye  what,  Solon,  I 
b'lieve  ol'  folks  is  the  fellers  'at  is  ezackly  cal'lated  for  't. 
If  I  was  tu  set  here  an'  watch  him  till  I  git  tu  be  as  ol'  as 
he  is  I  shouldn't  wonder  'f  I  could  oar  one  o'  these  she 


n8  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

boats,  but  I   do'    know,  it  don't  scasely  seem,  's   I   feel 
naow,  as  'ough  I  keered  ''baout  try  in'  much  afore." 

When  the  two  canoes  came  to  where  the  tributary  East 
Slang  somewhat  widened  the  slow  current  of  Little  Otter, 
Sam  pointed  with  his  paddle  to  the  low  cape,  now  green 
with  water  maples  in  full  leaf,  even  now  standing  ankle- 
deep  in  the  still  brown  water,  whose  weedy  surface  dully 
reflected  their  greenness  and  graceful  ramage  and  the 
flash  of  the  starlings'  wings  that  flitted  among  them. 
"  Up  there,  Antwine,  is  where  we  camped  last  spring,  an' 
hed  fun.  I  wonder  haow  it  looks  naow  'at  summer's 
come,  if  the  shanty  's  standin',  an'  whether  that  'ere  little 
squirrel  sets  there  a-chitterreein'  on  that  hemlock  yit  ? 
Dum'd  'f  I  don't  gwup  an'  see  haow  it  looks  some  day  ; 
lunsomer  'an  it  did  then,  I  guess." 

"  Yas,  sah  !  Oh,  'f  Ah '11  ant  have  it  good  tarn  dere, 
me  !  An'  dat  de  place  you'll  see  dat  crookit  tree  where 
Ah' 11  leek  dat  mans.  Ah'Jl  bet  you  head  you  can  fan'  de 
brark  scrape  off  de  tree  yet,  an'  de  hairs  scratter  'raoun'  — 
prob'ly  de  blood  all  wash  away  'fore  naow." 

"  Most  likely,"  Sam  said. 

The  scow  having  now  drawn  near,  they  passed  on  to 
gether  toward  the  lake.  "  I  was  a-cal' latin',"  Uncle  Tyler 
said,  addressing  the  fleet  in  general,  but  particularly  his 
crew,  "  for  ter  troll  some  comin'  'long,  but  you  be  so 
okkerd  !  I  got  a  rig  there  an'  posserbly  you  might  hang 
on  to  't  so  's  t'  snag  a  pickril, "  and  reaching  before  him  he 
took  up  a  short  pole  with  many  crooks  in  it  for  its  length 
whereon  was  wound  a  stout  line  which  had  a  hook  baited 
with  a  piece  of  pork  rind  and  a  strip  of  red  flannel. 
While  he  kept  the  boat  slowly  moving  he  unwound  thirty 
feet  or  so  of  the  line,  and  handing  the  pole  to  Joseph  went 


SAM  LOVEUS  CAMPS.  119 

on  at  a  leisurely  stroke.  "  The'  hain't  no  better  trollin' 
graound  in  the  hull  crik  'an  the'  is  atwixt  the  tew  Slangs," 
he  said,  and  as  they  neared  the  mouth  of  the  South  Slang 
Joseph  returned  jerk  for  jerk  on  the  trailing  line  with  a 
grunt  thrown  in.  "  What  be  I  a-goin'  t'  du  naow  ?"  he 
asked  in  dire  perplexity,  though  he  set  his  teeth  and  held 
to  the  bending  pole  with  a  will  ;  "  I  can't  get  him  'thin 
twenty  foot  on  us  wi'  this  dum'd  little  short  pole." 

"  Gim  me  a  holt  on  't  !"  said  Uncle  Tyler,  dropping 
his  oars  and  rising  to  the  occasion.  Laying  hold  of  the 
pole  he  drew  the  tip  far  behind  him,  and  grasping  the  line 
hauled  it  in  hand  over  hand  with  deliberate  celerity,  till 
the  wide-mouthed  pickerel  came  gaping  alongside  and 
was  lifted  on  board  by  the  hook,  forgetting  to  resent  his 
injuries  till  he  dropped  on  the  bottom  of  the  scow,  which 
he  then  belabored  with  strokes  of  his  tail,  while  he  snapped 
his  ugly  jaws.  He  was  a  slab-sided  fellow,  whose  six 
pounds  of  weight  were  spanned  by  two  feet  and  a  half  of 
length,  but  he  was  admired  as  a  beautiful  monster  by 
Solon  and  Joseph,  and  almost  as  much  by  Sam  and  An- 
toine,  who  came  alongside  to  look  at  him. 

"  Massy  sake  !"  cried  Uncle  Tyler  in  wondering  pity, 
"  it  does  beat  all  natur'  haow  you  folks  does  vally  these 
'ere  goo'-for-nothin'  pickril  !  I'd  a  gre'  deal  drutherhave 
a  neel.  Wait  till  ye  git  aholt  of  a  fo'  fi'  paound  pike,  an' 
then  you  have  a  fish  'at's  wuth  a-havin7  !  Pickril  !" 

The  trolling  line  was  let  out  again  as  they  went  forward, 
and  to  keep  it  clear  of  the  weeds  Joseph  now  ventured  to 
direct  their  course  with  commands,  or  rather  friendly 
advice,  which  would  have  puzzled  a  strictly  nautical  man 
to  obey  or  follow.  "  'F  I  was  you  I'd  gee  a  lee-tie  mite. 
Naow  haw  more  'n  ye  gee.  Now  oar  the  hardest  wi'  yer 


120  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

north  oar.  Guess  ye'd  better  oar  most  wi'  the  saouth  one 
naow — guess  it's  the  saouth  one — do'  know  but  what  it's 
the  west  one — lem  me  see,"  taking  a  look  at  the  sun  and 
the  eastern  hills — "  yes,  oar  the  west  one." 

"  Oh,  go  'long  wi*  your  tarnal  geein'  an'  ha  win',  an' 
your  northin'  an'  saouthin'  !"  Uncle  Tyler  droned  loudly. 
His  father  had  migrated  to  Vermont  from  the  sea-coast,  and 
something  of  his  salty  flavor  had  been  imparted  to  his  son. 
"  This  'ere  hain't  a  nox  cart,  it's  a  bwut,  an'  this  side  on 
her  is  starb'd  and  that's  larb'd  er  port.  When  you're 
a-wantin'  on  me  tu  pull  this  oar,  holler  '  starb'd  !  '  an' 
when  you're  a-wantin'  on  me  tu  pull  t'other,  holler 
'  port  !  '  But  I  guess  you'd  better  shet  yer  head  alto 
gether.  Anyways,  quit  yer  dum'd  geein'  and  hawin',  I 
hain't  a  yoke  o'  oxen  !" 

Now  came  a  heavy,  dead  pull  on  the  line,  and  Joseph, 
following  the  recent  example  of  Uncle  Tyler,  laid  the  tip 
of  the  pole  forward,  and  snatching  wildly  at  the  line, 
caught  it  at  last  and  hauled  it  in  with  such  haste  and  ex 
citement  that  it  was  snarled  in  an  almost  inextricable 
tangle  about  his  feet  and  legs  when  the  hook  came  along 
side  with  a  great  burden  of  lily  stems,  and  pads,  and  water 
weed.  His  look  of  disappointment  when  he  saw  his 
worthless  catch  was  not  dispelled  when  he  contemplated 
the  tangled  confusion  of  the  line,  and  he  was  not  com 
forted  by  Uncle  Tyler's  assurance,  "  You've  got  a  job  'at 
'11  last  ye  till  ye  git  t'  the  lake,  a-onravlin'  that  'ere  line  ! 
If  you'd  a-had  it  aout  a-passin'  the  Saouth  Slang,  you'd  a 
got  one  !  The's  allus  a  good  one  a-layin'  there." 

Now  they  were  on  the  last  reach  of  the  channel,  bend 
ing  here  in  a  long  curve  through  the  "widema'sh,"  as 
Uncle  Tyler  informed  them  this  portion  of  the  stream  was 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  121 

called.  Through  the  willowy  gateway  of  the  creek's 
mouth  they  could  see  the  lake,  the  "  Bay  of  the  Vessels," 
with  Garden  Island,  green  and  white  with  leaves  and  blos 
soms,  set  like  a  nosegay  on  its  shining  bosom,  clasped  in 
the  rocky  arm  of  Thompson's  Point.  They  soon  passed 
the  "  Slab  Hole,"  a  great  drift  of  flood  wood  lying  along 
the  western  shore,  and  presently  landed  among  the  willows 
at  the  place  the  miller  had  told  them  of.  They  found  the 
shelter  of  rocks  under  the  bluff,  but  decided  to  pitch  their 
tent,  for  the  overhanging  ledge  looked  like  a  pokerish  roof 
to  sleep  under. 

The  pickerel  was  dressed  and  fried  for  dinner,  and  even 
Uncle  Tyler,  despite  his  unfavorable  opinion  of  pickerel, 
made  way  with  a  generous  portion  of  it.  The  old  man 
was  paid  for  his  services,  and  made  preparations  for  his 
homeward  voyage.  He  pushed  his  craft  afloat  and  em 
barked,  but  presently  came  ashore  again,  and  they  returned 
to  the  landing  to  see  what  he  had  forgotten. 

"  I  wish  't  some  on  ye  'Id  gim  me  a  pipeful  er  tew  o' 
terbacker.  I'm  a-goin'  tu  send  right  up  t'  the  store  an' 
git  me  some  jest  as  soon  as  I  git  hum.  I  meant  tu 
yiste'd'y,  but  I  forgot  it."  For  some  minutes  after  he  left 
them  they  could  hear  the  smacking  of  his  lips  as  he  pulled 
at  Joseph's  pipe,  and  for  half  an  hour  longer  the  squeak, 
and  clank,  and  surge  of  his  laborious  progress,  while  they 
busied  themselves  with  the  arrangement  of  the  camp. 

They  had  not  finished  pitching  the  tent  before  they  were 
assailed  by  swarms  of  hungry  mosquitoes,  the  constant 
warfare  with  which  left  them  little  time  for  peaceable  labor, 
and  soon  made  it  apparent  that  there  was  no  comfort  nor 
rest  for  them  in  this  place.  Sam  and  Antoine  made  their 
way  to  the  top  of  the  rocky  bluff,  and  finding  their  perse- 


122  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

cutors  much  less  numerous,  the  tent  and  camp  equipments 
were  carried  thither,  and  their  temporary  home  established 
among  the  cedars.  Northerly  winds  from  the  lake  and 
southerly  winds  from  the  cleared  fields  landward  swept 
their  winged  enemies  away  and  filled  the  air  with  balsamic 
fragrance  that  reminded  them  of  Danvis  woods,  and 
through  the  green  masses  of  cedar  boughs  and  meshes  of 
trunks  and  branches  they  caught  glimpses  of  the  blue  lake 
crinkled  with  gold  and  silver  waves.  The  thin  soil  and 
the  rocks  were  spread  with  a  soft  carpet  and  cushions  of 
fallen  cedar  leaves  and  moss  set  in  various  patterns  of  russet 
and  green,  and  about  the  bases  of  the  rocks  were  springing 
the  young  shoots  of  mountain  fringe,  ready  to  overrun 
them  with  a  graceful  invasion  of  vine  and  flower. 

"  Ah' 11  tol'  you,  boy  I"  cried  Antoine,  looking  with 
admiration  on  the  carpeting  of  the  tent  floor,  just  finished 
with  his  last  armful  of  cedar  twigs,  "  'f  he  ant  mek  you 
felt  sleepy  for  jes'  look  at  dat  beds  !  Oh,  ;f  we  ant 
took  comfor'  here  !  An'  don't  dat  neat  fireplaces  you'll 
buil'  dar  ?"  inspecting  the  result  of  the  others'  labors 
— a  broad  fireplace  built  of  flat  ledge  stones.  '.'  Jes'  as 
handle  as  stofe  was  ;  yas,  seh,  more  handle,  'cause  you'll 
don't  got  for  hopen  no  door  for  put  hwood,  an'  you'll 
don't  got  for  took  off  no  gribble  for  brile  you  pot  of 
it  !  Dat  mek  it  all  de  hwomans  in  Danvit  cry  'f  he'll 
see  it  !  Naow  'f  we  can  honly  jes'  git  some  bullpawt, 
dey  ant  notin  more  in  dis  worl'  we'll  as'  for  it  !  But 
Ah'll  'fred,  me,  we'll  ant  ketch  it  much  dat  kan',  'cause 
de  she  one  he'll  settin'  on  hees  aigg  naow,  Ah  b'lieve,  an' 
de  he  one,  he'll  watch  of  it.  But  Ah'll  goin'  try  it.  Ant 
you  go  'long  to  me,  some  of  it  ?" 

Solon  expressed  a  desire  to  test  his  "  fishcatorial  skill/' 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  123 

and  the  two  went  down  the  bluff,  and  launching  the  dug 
out,  paddled  out  to  a  convenient  stake  set  in  the  further 
edge  of  the  channel.  More  than  once  as  the  narrow  craft 
lurched  along  its  course  and  Solon  grasped  the  gunwales, 
he  wished  the  broad  and  stable  bottom  of  Uncle  Tyler's 
scow  was  beneath  him,  but  he  felt  safer  when  the  canoe 
was  made  fast  to  the  stake  and  the  green  weeds  of  the 
marsh  were  within  reach,  though  under  them  were  six  feet 
of  water  and  unfathomable  mud. 

"  I  tell  ye  what,  Antwine,"  he  said,  drawing  the  first 
full  breath  since  leaving  shore,  "if  I'm  a-goin'  tu  persecute 
fishin',  I'm  a-goin'  tu  du  it  in  suthin'  diff'ent  fm  these 
'ere  lawg  and  birch  bark  c'ntraptions.  They  hain't  got 
no  stubility.  I'm  a-goin'  tu  hev  me  a  boat  suthin'  arter 
the  partern  o'  the  one  'at  that  ol'  gentleman  fetched  me 
an'  Jozeff  an'  t'other  things  daown  here  in,  infactotum  a 
femaline  or  she  boat,  'at  is  capacious  o'  kerryin'  suthin' 
right  end  up  withaout  oncessant  discumbobberation. " 

"  Well,  seh  !  Solem,  'f  you  can  fan'  dat  kan'  o'  boats 
Ah'll  willin'  you'll  go  in  it  !  Ah'll  'fred  all  a  tarn  every 
minutes  you'll  speel  bose  of  it.  Seet  steel  !  Dis  can-noe 
don't  fraid  'f  you'll  ant  jomp  an'  weegly  every  tarn  he'll 
top  over  leetly  mites  !"  And  Antoine  swung  his  full 
baited  hook  abroad  and  dropped  it  gently  into  the  water. 
Solon's  splashing  cast,  made  with  an  awkward  motion,  set 
the  canoe  to  rocking  and  his  companion  to  swearing,  and 
reawakened  his  own  fears.  When  quiet  was  restored  he 
got  a  bite,  and  after  several  ineffectual  twitches  hooked 
and  pulled  up  a  broad  sunfish,  and  as  he  swung  it  back 
and  forth,  making  futile  snatches  at  it  as  it  quivered  past 
and  circled  about  him,  always  just  out  of  reach,  the  danger 
of  a  capsize  became  imminent,  till  the  fish,  by  a  twist,  as 


124  SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS. 

lucky  for  them  as  for  it,  unhooked  itself  and  dropped  into 
the  edge  of  the  weeds. 

Antoine  rejoiced  aloud,  while  Solon  gazed  with  a  rueful 
countenance  upon  the  spot  where  the  fish  had  disappeared. 
"  Ah'll  tol*  you,  Solem,  you'll  ant  goin'  feesh  some  more 
'less  Ah'll  go  'shore.  Ah'll  ant  want  no  fun  for  be  top 
over  here,  me  I"  Solon  agreed  to  content  himself  with 
being  only  a  looker-on,  while  Antoine  fished.  But  the 
Canadian's  skill  and  patience,  faithfully  exercised  an  hour 
longer,  were  rewarded  by  nothing  better  than  a  dozen 
perch  and  sunfish,  which  though  he  cursed,  he  saved  for 
supper.  "  Yas,  seh,"  as  he  drew  out  his  hook  and  cleaned 
the  fragments  of  worms  off  it,  tossing  them  begrudgingly 
far  away,  and  widely  scattered,  "  Ah'll  tol'  you  so  de 
she  bullpawt  was  all  settin',  an'  he  ant  goin'  stop  for  heat 
notin's.  Wai,  le's  we'll  go."  And  after  winding  up  his 
line,  he  untied  the  canoe  and  paddled  into  the  black  shad 
ows  that  had  now  fallen  along  the  western  shore.  His 
labors  faintly  illumined  by  the  last  glimmers  of  departing 
daylight  straggling  through  the  willows,  he  scaled  and 
cleaned  the  fish  while  Solon  squatted  near,  assisting  little 
but  in  the  free  offering  of  sage  advice.  Then  they  climbed 
the  bluff,  bearing  the  slender  catch  to  camp,  where,  re-en 
forced  by  generous  slices  of  pork,  it  furnished  a  bountiful 
supper.  Smoking  and  chat  filled  the  short  hour  between 
supper  and  early  bedtime,  when  they  fell  into  the  sound 
sleep  which  blesses  honest  campers. 


II. 

JOSEPH   HILL  GOES  FISHING. 

JOSEPH  HILL  was  the  first  to  awake  next  morning,  and 
deliberate  in  all  things,  he  awoke  slowly.  While  yet  in 
the  drowsy  borders  of  dreamland  he  imagined  himself  at 
home,  and  began  as  usual  to  "  tell  M'ri"  something  of 
yesterday's  performances  or  to-day's  plans.  Then  the 
odor  of  the  cedar  bed  beneath  him  and  a  glimpse  of  the 
canvas  roof  slanting  close  above  him  brought  a  dim  realiza 
tion  of  his  unaccustomed  surroundings,  more  forcibly  im 
pressed  upon  him  when  he  crept  forth  through  the  tent 
flaps  and  saw  between  the  tree  trunks  the  channel  of  Little 
Otter  shining  through  the  film  of  mist  that  overspread  it 
like  a  broad  stripe  of  silver  veiled  with  gauze,  and  heard  a 
kingfisher  clattering  along  it,  and  from  far  out  on  the  lake 
the  crazy  laughter  of  a  loon.  Then  he  got  out  a  new 
pipe,  and  filling  it,  began,  since  Uncle  Tyler  had  taken  his 
well-seasoned  cutty,  the  old  smoker's  unpleasant  task  of 
mellowing  the  unripe  clay  of  this. 

The  fiz  of  the  damp  tobacco  or  a  mute  demand  of  the 
inner  Joseph  reminded  him  of  breakfast,  and  then  arose 
the  question  of  what  that  repast  should  be  composed  ? 
Unlimited  fish  at  all  meals  had  been  the  alluring  prom 
ise  of  this  expedition,  and  now  there  was  not  one  fish  in 
camp  to  furnish  even  lenten  fare.  A  noble  ambition 
seized  him  to  provide  fish  fcr  breakfast,  and  with  un- 


126  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

wonted  promptness  he  took  a  pole  and  bait  and  stole 
away  to  the  creek  where  above  the  Slab  Hole  the  shore 
and  a  patch  of  weedless  water  met.  He  looped  a  great 
tangle  of  worms  on  to  the  hook  and  cast  it  out  with  a 
splash  that  troubled  the  quiet  surface,  but  did  not  seem 
to  have  frightened  the  fish  beneath  it,  for  presently  there 
came  a  slow,  dogged  pull  upon  the  line,  which  then  be 
gan  to  cut  the  water  with  a  strong,  deliberate  sweep  that 
needed  half  of  Joe's  strength  to  check.  There  was  a  short 
but  lusty  struggle,  and  then  the  angler  thought  he  must 
be  towing  ashore  all  the  bottom  of  the  creek,  but  in  the  raft 
of  old  and  young  water  weeds  that  his  steadfast  pull 
stranded  he  discovered  the  form  of  a  great  fish,  which  he 
pounced  upon  and  bore  well  back  into  the  grassy  field 
before  he  loosened  his  hold  upon  it.  Then  as  it  threshed 
the  sward  with  sullen  strokes  he  gloated  over  it.  Dull  in 
color,  small-eyed,  and  wide-mouthed,  rimmed  with  a  long 
dorsal  fin  that  met  the  round  tail  where  it  was  marked  with 
a  spot  of  black,  its  captor  was  obliged  to  admit  that  it  was 
not  handsome,  but  its  size  made  amends  for  all  lack  of 
beaut}r.  Its  weight  could  not  be  less  than  eight  pounds, 
and  Joseph,  with  an  angler's  generosity,  set  it  at  three  or 
four  pounds  more.  What  a  grand  breakfast  it  would 
make,  all  the  more  to  be  appreciated  for  its  unexpectedness. 

The  place  offered  conveniences  for  dressing  it,  a  slab  to 
scale  it  on  and  water  to  wash  it,  so  Joseph  at  once  set 
about  preparing  it  for  breakfast,  having  no  desire  to  dis 
play  it  with  its  now  useless  adornments  of  head,  scales,  and 
fins.  Possibly  he  thought  there  would  be  no  loss  of  glory 
in  guessing  at  the  undressed  weight.  So  he  dressed  and 
cleaned  it  and  bore  it  to  camp. 

He  wondered  a  little,  perhaps  was  rather  disappointed 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  127 

that  none  of  his  companions  were  astir  to  be  astonished  at 
his  luck,  but  the  tent  was  silent  except  for  the  slow,  regular 
breathing  of  the  sleepers,  which  he  was  sure  he  heard.  It 
would  be  an  immense  triumph  to  have  the  fish  cooked 
when  they  awoke  and  surprise  them  with  a  breakfast  already 
set  which  they  had  not  dreamed  of  at  all.  He  collected 
some  dry  fallen  limbs  very  silently,  and  started  a  fire,  lis 
tening  when  it  cracked  loudest  to  assure  himself  that  the 
sleepers  were  not  disturbed.  He  got  a  chunk  of  pork  out 
of  the  kit  and  cut  some  slices  off  it,  which  he  soon  had 
sizzling  in  the  pan,  then  took  them  out  when  they  had 
yielded  fat  enough,  and  filled  their  place  with  great  cuts  of 
fish.  The  savor  hardly  answered  his  expectations,  and 
when  he  turned  the  pieces  with  a  fork,  unwashed  since  the 
last  meal,  they  crumbled  in  a  way  that  reminded  him  of 
frying  frozen  hasty  pudding,  but  he  was  magnanimous 
enough  to  blame  his  culinary  skill  more  than  the  quality 
of  the  fish.  How  could  so  great  a  fish  be  otherwise  than 
good  ?  Glancing  frequently  behind  him  in  momentary 
expectation  of  seeing  some  one  overlooking  the  experi 
mental  cookery  that  he  was  almost  sorry  for  having  under 
taken,  and  even  wishing  that  M'ri  was  in  his  place  for  a 
little  while,  he  urged  the  fire  with  frequent  jabs  of  the 
poker  to  do  its  best.  "  It  beats  Sam  Hill,"  he  whispered 
to  himself  as  he  paused  to  wipe  the  sweat  from  his  brow 
and  look  at  the  quiet  tent  again,  "  'at  the'  don't  some 
on  'em  wake  up  !" 

At  last  the  fish  was  done  beyond  all  doubt,  for  the  fork 
went  through  the  thickest  piece  without  resistance,  which 
he  had  heard  M'ri  say  was  a  sure  sign.  And  now  he  be 
thought  him  that  he  had  forgotten  the  potatoes  !  But  if 
there  was  fish,  what  did  it  matter  if  there  were  no  potatoes, 


128  SA M  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

nor  bread,  nor  anything  else?  But  there  was  bread 
enough,  and  so  he  pulled  aside  the  tent  flap  and  loudly 
announced  breakfast.  He  was  greatly  surprised  that  no 
response  came  from  it ;  more  so  when,  with  a  vague  fear 
that  some  strange  calamity  had  befallen  his  companions, 
he  peered  into  the  dim  interior  and  found  it  empty.  Joseph 
was  not  a  superstitious  man,  but  for  a  moment  he  won 
dered  if  some  judgment  of  heaven  had  come  upon  them 
for  such  sacrilegious  use  of  Brother  Foot's  old  camp-meet 
ing  tent,  sanctified  as  it  must  be  by  annual  service  in  the 
religious  picnics  of  the  past  twenty  years.  When  he 
backed  out  on  his  hands  and  knees  he  noticed,  as  he  had 
not  before,  that  all  the  fish  poles  but  his  own  were  gone, 
and  knew  that  his  friends  were  out  on  the  same  errand 
that  he  had  been.  His  loud  shouts,  or  perhaps  the  voice 
less  calls  of  hunger,  soon  brought  them  back,  when  their 
admiration  of  his  whole  performance  gave  him  all  the  re 
ward  he  desired  but  the  final  one  of  gustatory  approval, 
which  he  hoped  would  soon  be  given.  The  full  frying- 
pan  was  set  out,  the  bread  and  pickles  were  brought  forth, 
and  while  Joseph  apologized  for  the  lacking  potatoes,  as 
much  missed  at  a  Yankee  feast  as  they  would  be  at  a  ban 
quet  of  the  descendants  of  Irish  kings,  they  gathered 
around  the  festive  board,  which  was  not  a  board,  but  a  flat 
rock.  As  each  took  his  first  mouthful  he  looked  about 
and  saw  the  others  furtively  regarding  him  as  they  slowly 
and  dubiously  tasted  their  own  morsels. 

"  Wai,"  said  Sam,  the  first  to  break  the  silence,  "  this 
is  tumble  nice  fish,  but  somehaow  'r  nother  it  don't  seem 
tu  be  ezackly  the  kind  o'  fish  'at  I  like." 

"  What  kan'  of  feesh  you'll  call  dat,  Zhozeff  ?"  Antoine 
demanded,  with  a  grimace  of  disgust.  "  You'll  fan'  heem 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  129 

dead  on  de  water,  or  he'll  got  so  hoi  he'll  can'  died  an' 
come  for  you  for  keel  heem,  hein  ?" 

"  Wai,  I  guess  you'd  ha'  thought  he  was  live  'nough 
an'  spry  'nough  'f  you'd  a-hed  a  holt  on  him  !  He  pulled 
like  a  yoke  o'  tew-ye'r-ol'  stags — I  d'  know  but  three- 
ye'r-ol's— an'  flew  'raound  like  a  nigger  tu  a  quiltin'. 
But,  I  swan  !  it's  a  fact  he  don't  taste  so  good  's  I  ex 
pected  f'm  his  looks,  for  I  called  him  ri'  daown  harnsome. 
Anyways,  he  was  big  enough  tu  'a'  ben  turrible  harnsome 
'f  he'd  ha'  took  a  notiern  tu  run  tu  beauty.  But  I  'spect 
the  fault's  in  the  cookin',  er  aour  appetite  t'  eat,  er 
suthin' — the  cookin',  I  guess,  for  I  never  could  cook 
nothin'  wuth  a  snap,  anyways.  Naow,  oncte  when  M'ri 
was  gone  off  vis' tin'  her  folks  tew  three  days,  I  ondertook 
tu  make  a  johnny  cake,  I  b'lieve  it  was — mebby'twasa 
short  cake  ;  guess  the'  couldn't  nob'dy  tol'  which  'twas 
meant  for — an'  when  'twas  done,  I  snum  the  young  uns 
turned  up  all  the'  noses  at  it,  an'  I'll  be  dum'd  if  Liern 
'ould  tech  it  !  I  hove  it  in  t'  hawgs,  an'  they  fin'ly  wore 
it  aout  rhuttin'  on  it  'raound.  I  wish  't  1  hedn't  never 
ondertook  tu  cook  the  tarnal  fish  !  I'd  ort  tu  ben  satis 
fied  wi'  ketchin'  on  it.  But  the's  'nough  on  't  left  tu  try 
agin  ;  pitch  in,  Antwine,  'n'  see  what  you  c'ndu  with  it/' 

"  Yes,  du,  Antwine,"  Solon  urged  ;  "  the's  no  knowin' 
but  what  wi'  your  cumilary  skill  you  c'ld  make  it  quite 
palatial. ' ' 

"Ah  b'lieve,"  said  Antwine,  closely  examining  some 
of  the  uncooked  portion,  "  Ah' 11  know  what  kin'  o'  feesh 
dat  was  be.  Where  hees  head  was  ?" 

;<  Why,"  Joseph  answered,  "on  the  for'a'd  end  on 
him,  jest  the  same  as  any  fish's — an'  his  tail  was  on  t' 
other  end  on  him,  er  most  on  't  was,  's  nigh  's  I  c'n 


130  SAM  LOVEVS  CAMPS. 

rec'lect;  do'  know  but  some  on't  was  on  his  back,  though, 
come  tu  think." 

"  Ant  you'll  s'pose  Ah' 11  knosv  dat  ?  Where  you'll  lef 
hees  head  of  it  ?" 

"  Oh  !  naow  I  begin  tu  onderstand  ye,  Antwine.  Over 
there  where  I  ketched  him/' 

"  Ah  guess  you'll  on'stan'  more  better  as  you  cook  what 
Ah' 11  meant.  Where  you'll  t'row  hees  tail  of  it?" 

**  Oh,  I  d'  know.  It's  layin'  raound  here  some'er's, 
I  guess,"  and  he  joined  Antoine  in  the  search  for  the 
missing  link. 

"  Dah  !"  cried  Antoine,  swooping  down  upon  some 
thing  and  then  holding  aloft  the  rounded  tail  with  its  au 
thentic  black  seal,  "  ant  Ah'll  guess  what  Ah'll  tol'  you  ? 
Jes'  same  what  Peltiet  shoot  dat  tarn  he'll  link  he  do  so 
big  !  O  Zhozeff,  don't  you  shame  mek  us  heat  dat?  Ant 
you'll  see  where  de  dev'  put  hees  t'umb  w'en  he'll  peek  it 
an'  t'row  it  'way  cause  he  so  bad  he  won't  have  it  hese'f  ?" 

Shamefaced  with  downfall  of  pride,  Joseph  said,  as 
Pelatiah  had  on  a  similar  occasion,  "  Wai,  I  hed  fun 
a-ketchin'  on  him,  an'  some,  I  d'  know  but  I  did, 
a-cookin'  on  him — more,  anyways,  'n  we've  hed  a-eatin' 
on  him.  I'm  tumble  sorry  't  he  ain't  no  better  eatin', 
but  I  du  think,"  he  added,  loath  to  relinquish  the  fish's 
claims  to  edible  excellence,  "  'at  the  fault  is  mostly  in  the 
cookin'." 

"  Wai,  seh,  Zhozeff,"  cried  Antoine,  throwing  his  hands 
out  from  his  breast  and  wide  apart,  as  if  in  final  banish 
ment  of  the  subject,  "  you'll  ant  wan'  be  sorry  for  dat. 
Ah  tol'  you,  all  de  mans  and  all  de  hwomans  was  be 
de  bes'  cook  in  de  worl',  have  it  all  de  bur'r  an'  peppy  an' 
salt  was  ever  mek,  can'  mek  dat  bowfins  fit  for  heat  de  dev'. " 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  131 

Upon  this  assurance  they  attempted  no  further  experi 
ments  with  the  despised  fish,  but  made  their  breakfast  of 
fried  pork  and  bread. 

Then  they  set  about  spending  the  day  in  accordance 
with  the  chief  purpose  of  the  expedition.  Sam  fitted  up 
a  trolling  rig  after  the  approved  pattern  of  Uncle  Tyler's, 
a  bit  of  his  flannel  shirt  furnishing  the  red  rag  unprovided 
by  their  kit,  and  trolled  up  and  down  the  creek  in  the 
bark  canoe.  Antoine,  intent  on  circumventing  the  bull- 
pouts  that  would  not  bite,  made  a  rude  spear  of  a  cedar 
pole  and  sharpened  nails  and  prowled  along  the  low  shore 
of  the  creek  in  quest  of  spawning  fish,  while  Solon  and 
Joseph,  unwilling  to  trust  themselves  in  birch  and  dug 
out,  wandered  westward  along  the  safe  and  stable  shore  of 
the  bay. 


III. 

EXPLORATIONS. 

SOLON  and  Joseph  fished  off  the  rocks  when  they  came 
to  eligible  places,  and  caught  a  few  perch  and  rock  bass, 
while  they  continually  feasted  their  eyes  with  the  wonder 
ful  sight  of  the  lake,  so  immense  a  body  of  water  that,  it 
seemed  to  them,  it  gave  a  fair  idea  of  the  immensity  of 
the  ocean.  This  was  more  impressed  upon  them  when 
they  had  strolled  to  Bluff  Point,  and  looking  beyond  the 
promontory  of  Thompson's  Point,  saw  the  blue  lake  and 
the  blue  sky  meet  far  to  the  northward,  with  bluer  dots  of 
distant  islands  hung  between  them,  and  the  white  wings 
of  sloops  whose  hulls  were  beyond  the  horizon.  And 
there  was  the  tall  white  tower  of  Split  Rock  Lighthouse, 
newly  built,  and  now  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  a  star  by 
night  to  warn  mariners  off  its  perilous  rocks,  and  giving 
these  mountaineers  a  vivid  realization  of  the  dangers  beset 
ting  those  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships  ;  perils  and 
dangers  that  the  waves  seemed  always  whispering  of  as 
they  hungrily  lapped  the  rocks  and  chuckled  wickedly  in 
the  water-worn  caverns.  By  and  by  they  saw  a  smoke 
arising  from  the  watery  horizon,  and  after  it  a  speck,  which 
at  last  grew  till  it  became  a  steamboat,  a  leviathan  which 
soon  wallowed  ponderously  past,  close  to  the  farther  shore, 
its  gay  flags  and  pennons  flaunting  bravely  against  the 
shadowed  steeps  of  Split  Rock  Mountain,  a  wake  of  foam 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  133 

following  the  roaring  paddle-wheels.  Some  time  after  the 
majestic  apparition  had  vanished  behind  the  promontories 
to  the  west  of  them,  the  waves  of  its  wake  came  in,  beat 
ing  the  rocky  shore  with  slow,  sullen  surges,  like  baffled 
foes  retreating  from  the  path  of  a  conqueror.  Strange 
woods  set  afloat  far  away  came  tossing  ashore  to  the  wind 
row  of  wave- worn  logs,  slabs,  chips,  and  bits  of  painted 
boats  that  lined  the  shores.  An  old  shoe  suggested 
thoughts  of  drowned  men,  and  white-winged  gulls  hovered 
like  spirits  over  the  distant  waves.  It  was  all  very  new,  and 
strange,  and  mysterious.  These  two  anglers  bore  back  to 
camp  but  few  visible  trophies,  when  in  the  afternoon  they 
followed  thither  their  shadows,  elusive  guides  that  were 
now  distinctly  seen  leading  the  way  across  broad  patches 
of  clean  forest  floor,  now  dancing  in  vague  outline  and 
confused  dismemberment  on  tree  trunks  and  low  branches, 
and  now  disappearing  in  a  throng  of  other  shadows  or  a 
mass  of  shade.  But  the  sights  they  had  seen  better  repaid 
the  time  and  travel  spent  than  much  bigger  strings  of  fish 
than  they  carried  would  have  done,  and  they  were  content. 
Antoine  prowled  along  the  shore  from  the  Slab  Hole  to 
the  South  Slang  and  to  the  rotting  and  displaced  abutment 
oi  the  old  bridge  that  had  just  given  up  the  weary  task  oi 
spanning  so  much  marsh  and  so  little  channel.  He  trans 
fixed  many  unlucky  bull  pouts  wriggling  slowly  in  and  out 
of  their  spawning  holes,  and  transferred  them  with  great 
satisfaction  from  his  rude  spear  to  his  string  of  elm  bark  ; 
battle-scarred  amazons,  torn  and  stabbed  by  the  horns  of 
other  amazons,  and  lean  fathers  of  the  race  of  bullpouts,  as 
scarred  and  wounded  as  their  warlike  wives.  To  the  Ca 
nadian  a  bullpout  was  a  bullpout,  to  be  taken  at  any  time, 
by  any  means,  and  without  regard  to  its  condition.  If  he 


134  SAM  LOVE  US  CAMPS. 

ever  thought,  as  doubtless  he  never  did,  how  the  continu 
ation  of  his  most  prized  fish  depended  on  procreation, 
doubtless  he  would  not  care,  for  what  Canuck  ever  did  ? 
Apparently  it  is  their  belief  that  fish  were  created  solely 
for  them,  and  belong  to  them  alone,  and  that  they  have  a 
right  to  take  in  any  manner,  as  they  will  if  they  can,  the 
last  one  to-day,  though  there  should  be  no  fish  for  any  one 
forever  after. 

Antoine  discovered  an  old  scow  adrift  in  the  marsh, 
water-logged,  with  red-painted  square  prow,  and  stern,  and 
gunwales  just  above  the  water  and  overlapped  with  clots 
of  old  weeds.  By  the  help  of  a  long  pole,  with  a  hook  on 
the  end  of  it,  and  by  some  wading,  he  succeeded  in  haul 
ing  it  ashore,  and  after  bailing  it  and  overturning  it  found 
that  with  a  little  tinkering  it  would  make  a  serviceable  craft 
for  those  unsealegged  mariners  Solon  and  Joseph  to  go 
fishing  in.  A  rusty  fish  hook,  a  bit  of  line  with  a  ham 
mered  leaden  sinker  clasping  its  rotten  strands,  and  a 
soggy  pine  float  of  a  seine  rope  found  lying  in  the  bot 
tom,  the  hole  and  step  for  a  jack-staff,  and  the  charred 
marks  of  fallen  embers  on  the  bow  showed  that  it  was  a 
boat  accustomed  to  fishing  in  various  ways,  so  saturated 
with  experience  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  might  impart  some 
thing  of  it  to  those  novices. 

"  Bah  gosh  !"  said  Antoine  as  he  sidled  around  his 
prize,  inspecting  it  with  intense  satisfaction  and  burning 
incense  of  rank  tobacco  at  bow,  and  stern,  and  sides, 
"  dat  was  jes'  de  sloop  for  Solem  an'  Zhozeff  !  Dey  ant 
worse  notin'  for  go  in  can-noe,  bose  of  it.  Dey  draownd 
evreebodee  an'  deysef  dat  go  wid  'em  in  can-noe  !  Wen 
Ah'll  gat  dis  feex  up  wid  some  nail,  an'  rag,  an'  tuppy- 
time,  dey  can'  teep  it  board  over,  dey  can'  speel  hese'f 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  135 

off  'f  he  ant  seet  raght  'tween  de  middly  of  it.  Dat  was 
pooty  good  lucky  for  fan'  dat  boats,  me  !  He  ant  b'long 
for  someboddee,  Ah' 11  bet  you  head,  an'  'f  he  was,  he 
can'  have  it !" 

So  filled  with  the  importance  of  great  achievements  he 
shouldered  his  spear  and  string  of  fish,  and  trudged  proudly 
toward  camp,  but  before  reaching  it  he  made  his  fish  more 
presentable  by  stripping  off  their  scarred  skins. 

As  Sam  with  noiseless  strokes  paddled  his  canoe  up  the 
great  bow  of  the  channel  where  it  winds  through  the  lower 
end  of  the  "  wide  ma'sh"  and  slowly  trailed  his  lure  of 
pork  rind  and  red  flannel  along  the  border,  marked  by 
purple  young  lily  pads,  unwittingly  he  crossed  it,  and  a 
grating  succession  of  tugs  at  his  hook  reminded  him  that 
he  had  been  too  contemplative  in  his  recreation  and  had 
gone  astray  into  the  shallow  and  weedy  false  channel  that 
runs  straight  lakeward  from  near  the  mouth  of  the  South 
Slang.  He  hauled  in  his  line,  cleaned  his  hook  of  its 
burden  of  weeds,  and  retraced  his  way  to  the  true  channel, 
which  having  regained,  he  paid  more  attention  to  his 
course,  and  was  presently  rewarded  by  a  sturdy  tug  that 
had  in  it  the  unmistakable  viciousness  of  a  pickerel's  bite. 
Yet  as  he  hauled  in  the  line,  hand  over  hand,  the  resist 
ance  was  so  sullen  and  sluggish  that  he  was  half -inclined 
to  think  he  was  drawing  in  only  another  raft  of  weeds,  till 
he  saw  the  gaping  jaws  splitting  the  surface.  He  soon 
had  a  lusty  pickerel  boated,  who  beginning  his  fight  too 
late  to  avail  aught  but  annoyance  of  his  captor,  hammered 
•the  cedar  lining  of  the  canoe  and  snapped  his  jaws  wickedly 
till  he  was  knocked  in  the  head  with  the  paddle. 

Moving  forward  again,  Sam  soon  had  a  sharp  bite  that 
promised  something  better  than  the  ambitious  little  perch 


136  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

that  had  attempted  to  gorge  the  alluring  combination  of 
pork  and  wool,  and  came  skittering  to  hand  with  all  the 
fight  and  conceit  taken  out  of  him.  A  little  later  the 
trolling  bait  was  nibbled  and  then  seized  by  a  fish  that 
proved  to  be  of  nobler  metal.  Swimming  deep,  he  fought 
every  inch  of  his  unwilling  way  to  the  canoe,  which  when 
brought  to  he  attempted  to  run  under,  but  Sam  foiled  this 
device,  got  him  alongside,  and  skilfully  lifted  and  swung 
him  aboard.  He  was  of  handsome  form,  and  his  small, 
firm  set  scales  were  golden  green  on  his  sides  and  silver 
white  on  his  belly.  In  every  way  he  looked  gamy  and 
good,  a  fish  created  to  afford  both  sport  and  toothsome 
food.  Sam  had  never  seen  his  like,  but  rightly  guessed 
him  to  be  the  "  pike/'  whose  excellence  Uncle  Tyler  had 
extolled.  So  trolling  up  stream  to  the  then  well-defined 
mouth  of  the  South  Slang,  now  so  disguised  with  mask 
of  weeds  that  old  voyagers  may  hardly  recognize  it,  and  a 
little  way  up  the  channel  of  this  begrudging  tributary,  Sam 
got  now  and  then  a  bite,  and  lost  and  saved  some  fish — 
another  pike-perch  and  two  or  three  pickerel.  He  had 
fish  enough  now,  and  paddled  or  drifted  anywhere,  hearing 
and  seeing  many  things  of  interest  to  such  a  simple  lover 
of  nature.  From  far  and  near  in  the  green  expanse  of 
marsh  came  strange  outcries,  laughter,  yells,  and  more 
subdued  jargon,  converse  of  unseen  waterfowl,  strange 
voices  of  birds  who  were  strangers  to  him.  He  recognized 
the  voices  of  some  old  acquaintances  when  occasionally  a 
bittern  boomed,  and  the  blackbirds  grated  and  gurgled  out 
their  notes,  and  when  some  old  choir  leader  of  the  bull 
frogs  sang  his  short  prelude  and  his  brethren  struck  in  and 
bellowed  a  grand  chorus  that  made  all  the  wooded  shores 
resound.  Once  an  old  wood- duck  convoyed  her  newly- 


SAM  LOVEU  S   CAMPS.  137 

launched  fleet  of  callow  ducklings  out  of  the  rushes  into 
the  channel  just  before  him,  and  then  in  sudden  panic  at 
sight  of  his  larger  craft  took  wing  for  cover  of  the  woods, 
flying  low  and  followed  almost  as  swiftly  by  her  brood, 
simulating  flight  with  ineffectual  plumeless  wings,  but 
actually  making  their  way  by  running  like  water  sprites 
over  the  water  after  her.  Now  and  then  a  dusky  duck 
would  splash  out  of  the  weeds  with  a  loud  alarm  of  quack 
ing,  but  her  young  always  kept  out  of  sight  if  they  had  yet 
ventured  so  far  as  the  channel's  edge  from  their  birthplace. 
There  were  no  signs  of  Sam's  last  spring's  dear  enemies, 
the  muskrats,  but  the  floating  crumbs  of  their  midnight 
feast,  chips  of  the  water-lily  roots,  and  shreds  of  aquatic 
weeds.  Their  winter  huts  had  all  been  swept  away  by  the 
high  water  of  spring,  and  only  shapeless  rafts  of  rubbish 
grounded  here  and  there  among  the  rushes  were  left  to 
show  how  industriously  these  little  water  folk  had  builded 
but  a  few  months  ago.  Their  homes  were  now  in  burrows 
in  the  banks,  the  occupancy  of  which  was  seldom  indi 
cated  in  day-time  but  by  the  roiling  of  the  watery  entrance 
or  the  sluggish  underwater  wake  of  a  silent  incomer  or 
outgoer. 

Great  blue  herons  sentinelled  the  shallows,  or  fanned 
their  slow  way  from  one  to  another,  and  now  and  then  a 
bittern  made  a  startled,  ungainly  flight  from  the  densest 
beds  of  rushes,  while  kingfishers  scolded  and  clattered  along 
their  jerky  course  or  hung  over  minnow-haunted  shoals, 
as  if  suspended  by  invisible  threads,  which  presently  were 
severed,  and  let  them  fall  into  the  brown  water  with  a 
splashing  upburst  of  spray.  The  scraggy  tangles  of  button 
bushes  were  noisy  and  flashing  with  innumerable  nesting 
redwings,  sunfish  and  perch  were  incessantly  snapping  at 


138  SAM   LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

the  various  insects  resting  on  or  hovering  about  the  water 
plants,  and  great  fish  surged  through  the  rushes  in  pursuit 
of  prey  or  in  swift  retreat  from  the  boat.  The  marshes 
were  busy  with  the  life  of  their  thronging  tenants  in  the 
happy  summers  of  those  days.  Alas,  that  now  they  are  so 
silent  and  deserted  ! 

Over  the  tops  of  the  rushes  Sam  caught  occasional 
glimpses  of  Antoine  stealing  along  the  shore  in  his  nefari 
ous  bullpout  prodding,  and  mildly  "  dum'd  him"  in  solil 
oquy  "for  a  wus'n  half  Injin. "  In  the  afternoon  he 
paddled  to  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  and  after  looking  at 
the  dancing  waves  of  the  sunlit  bay  clasped  in  the  arms  of 
the  green-clad  June  shores,  and  watching  the  majestic 
sweep  of  an  eagle  wheeling  above  the  cliffs,  he  beached  his 
canoe  on  the  rushy  shore  of  the  landing  and  took  his  fare 
of  fish  to  camp,  whither  his  companions  soon  came.  At 
nightfall  they  had  their  bountiful  supper  of  fish,  and  then 
as  they  smoked  their  pipes  about  the  dying  embers  each 
told  the  story  of  his  day's  outing. 


IV. 

A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  IN  ANTOINE'S  PRIZE. 

NEXT  morning,  directly  after  an  early  breakfast,  Antoine, 
with  Solon  and  Joseph,  set  out  to  repair  the  scow  and  get 
her  to  the  landing. 

Meanwhile  Sam  kept  camp  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  then 
went  out  for  a  little  trip  on  the  bay,  cruising  across  the 
shallow  water  of  the  northeast  shore  to  the  mouth  of  Lewis 
Creek,  which  till  now  he  had  not  seen.  Its  beauty  invited 
him  upstream,  and  when  at  the  first  bend  he  turned  and 
looked  forth  upon  the  lake,  through  the  noble  colonnade 
of  ancient  water  maples  and  button-woods  to  the  grim,  un 
shorn  steeps  of  Split  Rock  Mountain,  beyond  the  broad 
expanse  of  water,  without  a  craft  in  sight  upon  it  or  any 
sign  of  human  presence  anywhere,  he  fancied  that  he  felt 
something  of  the  sense  of  complete  isolation  from  all  his 
fellows  that  the  first  white  voyagers  here  must  have  experi 
enced.  But  in  those  old  days  one  could  not  have  been  so 
sure  of  having  it  safely  to  himself,  as  Sam  was  reminded 
by  the  sight  of  a  flint  arrow-head  on  a  mud  bank  among 
the  rushes.  For  many  years  after  his  visit  to  it  this  part 
of  Sungahnetuk  retained  its  primitive  character,  and  was  a 
place  where  one  might  easily  imagine  himself  set  back  a 
couple  of  centuries  to  the  times  when  New  England  was 
indeed  new,  when  Petowbowk  was  the  warpath  of  savage 
and  civilized  nations,  and  knew  not  the  peaceful  keel  of 
commerce. 


140  SAM  LOVEUS   CAMPS. 

An  inward  yearning  aroused  Sam  from  his  vague  dreams 
of  the  past,  and  he  plied  his  paddle  lustily  toward  camp 
and  dinner.  He  found  his  comrades  at  the  landing,  to 
which  they  had  succeeded  in  floating  the  scow,  its  wounds 
almost  healed  by  application  of  rags,  turpentine,  and 
grease,  a  medication  for  leaky  boats  imparted  to  Sam  by 
his  Indian  friends  and  by  him  in  turn  to  Antoine. 

"  Dah,  seh,  Sam  !"  said  Antoine,  standing  with  arms 
akimbo  far  enough  away  from  his  prize  to  take  in  all  her 
proportions  at  one  glance,  "ant  dat  pooty  good  leetly 
sloops  for  de  boy  ?  Ah' 11  sail  heem  wid  a  pole  all  de  way 
from  where  Ah' 11  fan'  of  it,  an'  Solem  and  Zhozeff  ant  be 
some  more  'fred  of  it  as  if  he  was  in  a  middly  of  ten-acre 
lots.  Dey  can'  feesli  in  de  water  naow,  an'  took  some 
comfortubbly,  ant  it?" 

Sam  admitted  the  perfect  safety  of  the  craft,  but  ex 
pressed  some  doubts  as  to  the  validity  of  its  present  owner 
ship.  "  S'posin'  some  feller  comes  along  some  day, 
Antwine,  an'  ketches  you  or  them  a-usin'  o'  his  boat, 
what  ye  goin'  tu  du  then  ?" 

"Wai,  seh,  Ah'll  goin'  tol'  it  he  can'  have  dat 
boats  !  When  Ah'll  fan'  dat,  he  ant  no  more  boats  as  raf 
was,  an'  Ah'll  mek  it  into  good  boats  aout  of  it !  Ah'll 
bail  it  wid  rag  an'  tuppytime  dat  was  ma  hown,  me  !  Ant 
you'll  see  ?" 

Sam  was  not  convinced,  but  conceded  that  there  could 
be  no  harm  in  using  the  scow  till  called  for,  and  so  it  was 
planned  that  Solon,  Joseph,  and  Antoine  should  go  a-fish- 
ing  in  it  that  night  at  a  stake  just  opposite  the  landing, 
whose  age  and  marks  of  frequent  use  gave  silent  evidence 
of  an  approved  fishing  place. 

"  He  was  leek  leetly  mites  naow,"  said  Antoine,  still 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  141 

admiring  his  prize,  as  he  scooped  a  few  basins  full  of  water 
out  of  it,  "  hut  he  be  all  taght  as  one  One'  Lasha  boot 
tarn  he  gin  soak  up  for  we'll  be  ready.  Yas,  seh  !  jes'  as 
taght  an'  gra'  deal  more  comfortubbly  as  dat  boots,  Ah  bet 
your  head  !  Den  when  we  gat  t'rough  of  it,  Ari  do'  know 
'f  he  ant  jes'  well  pull  heem  up  in  de  rush  for  day-tarn,  so 
'f  some  hole  foolish  link  he'll  hown  it  he  can'  see  heem. 
It  was  bes'  kan'  o'  boats  for  use  it  in  de  naght,  don't  it, 
hein  ?" 

"  I  notice,"  Solon  remarked,  as  they  took  their  way  to 
the  camp,  "  'at  Antwine  calls  this  boat  o'  hisn'  he,  which 
it  seems  tu  me  'at  it  is  a  fac-smile  of  Uncle  Tyler's  boat, 
an'  is  intitled  tu  the  respects  due  tu  the  femaline  sect,  an' 
my  intentions  is  tu  speak  of  it  as  she. '.' 

After  they  had  eaten  supper  and  in  an  unhousewifely 
manner  washed  their  few  dishes,  Sam,  under  canvas,  fell 
to  dreaming  open-eyed  of  Danvis's  dearest  inhabitant,  and 
the  others,  well  provided  with  tackle  and  worms,  went 
fishing  in  the  old  scow. 

The  creek  was  almost  as  silent  as  the  golden  and  black 
reflections  of  sky  and  wooded  shore  that  rested  on  its 
bosom,  and  for  awhile  the  silence  was  only  broken  by  the 
whish  of  the  intent  anglers'  lines  and  the  splash  of  the 
heavy  sinkers  that  sent  segments  of  gleaming  circles  to 
break  the  ranks  of  brooding  shadows  along  the  shore. 
Then  a  bullfrog  sang  a  solemn  prelude,  and  all  his  breth 
ren  of  the  marshes  bellowed  forth  a  resounding  chorus, 
which  aroused  a  discordant  cackle  and  gabble  of  some 
always  invisible  inhabitants  of  the  rush-screened  flats, 
whether  beasts,  birds,  or  reptiles,  or  all  of  these,  one  could 
only  guess,  and  when  the  chorus  ended  and  the  clamor  of 
the  rude  audience  ceased,  there  came  a  hush  as  fully  per- 


142  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

vading  the  evening  as  had  the  previous  uproar.  Then  a 
dreaming  bird  softly  rehearsed  his  day-time  love  song,  a 
whippoorwill  far  away  lightly  whisked  the  air  with  his  note, 
one  nearer  lashed  it  with  sharp  strokes,  the  sound  whereof 
was  presently  almost  overborne  by  the  renewed  bellowing 
of  the  frogs,  the  trill  of  toads,  and  the  weird  outcry  of  the 
unknown  tenants  of  the  marshes,  only  the  last  most  in 
sisted  sibilant  note  of  the  whippoorwill  being  heard  above 
the  pulsing  waves  of  clamor. 

"  He'll  leek  dat  poor  leetly  Williams  pooty  hard,  ant 
it?"  Antoine  remarked  as  he  answered  the  regularly  inter 
mittent  flashes  of  the  lightning  bugs  signalling  from  marsh 
and  tree  with  the  larger  glow  of  his  pipe,  and  then 
announced  with  the  sigh  of  relief  that  comes  after  long 
waiting,  "  Dah,  seh,  sometings  was  bit.  Ah  do'  know 
mos'  so  well  'f  Ah  see  it,  but  Ah  guess  it  was  heel." 
After  some  moments  of  patient  waiting  he  gave  a  twitch, 
and  the  crooked  pole  writhed  into  more  intense 
crookedness,  and  after  a  brief  struggle  a  tangled  con 
tortion  was  torn  from  the  water  and  dropped  into  the  boat. 
"  Dah  he  was,"  cried  Antoine,  "  ant  Ah' 11  tol'  you  he 
was  heel?  Dah  he  was."  But  where  was  he?  Wrig 
gling  his  way  as  swiftly  as  a  snake  from  end  to  end  of  the 
scow,  he  was  felt  here,  heard  there,  almost  at  the  same 
moment,  tangling  the  line  about  the  feet  of  the  excited 
anglers,  while  Solon  and  Joseph  madly  stamped  at  him, 
and  Antoine  as  madly  grasped  for  him  in  the  gloom. 

"  Hit  it  wid  you'  boots,  boy  !  Keek  it  wid  a  steek  1" 
he  cried  as  he  tried  to  pull  toward  him  by  the  line  the  cap 
tured  but  unsubdued  prize.  "  Zhozeff,  strak  it  wid  you' 
boot !"  And  Joseph  brought  down  his  foot,  clad  in  one  of 
the  last  and  most  solid  pieces  of  Uncle  'Lisha's  work,  with 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  143 

a  crash  that  stunned  the  eel  and  started  one  of  the  bottom 
boards  of  the  scow.  Their  feet  were  getting  wet  before 
Antoine  had  unhooked  the  eel,  when  he  noticed  the  gurgle 
of  the  incoming  water  and  divined  the  cause.  Hurriedly 
unfastening  the  boat,  he  shouted  frantically  to  his  com 
panions  to  pole  and  paddle  ashore,  while  he  wildly  clawed 
the  water  with  his  fish-pole.  "  Oh,  Sacre  !  you'll  bus'  de 
boats.  Zhozeff  !  Pull  !  Push  !  Hoorah  !  All  of  it  us  be 
draown  'f  you  ant  hurry  for  git  dar  firs'  !  Aour  hwomans 
ant  see  us  'fore  we  was  some  corp  'f  you  ant  be  hurry  !" 
So  Antoine  urged  them,  as  the  old  craft,  fast  becoming  water 
logged,  reeled  and  lurched  toward  the  landing,  to  which 
Sam  was  drawn  by  the  alarming  outcry,  and  reached  just 
in  time  to  see  the  scow  sink  barely  its  length  from  shore 
and  Antoine  plunge  forward  from  the  bow  and  wade  hip 
deep  to  the  landing,  while  he  roared,  "  Ah'll  got  de  heel, 
Sam!  Go  an'  save  it  de  boy  !"  Solon  and  Joseph  came 
floundering  to  land  with  no  harm  but  fright  and  wetting, 
and  Sam,  wading  out  a  little  way,  hauled  the  boat  to  safe 
beaching  for  the  night.  "  Solon,"  Joseph  asked  as  he 
stood  with  bent  body,  legs  wide  apart,  and  dripping  arms 
slanting  far  from  his  sides,  dismally  regarding  the  craft  he 
had  wrecked,  "  what  sect  du  you  call  that  ere  cussed  ol' 
boat  naow  ?" 

"  Wai,"  said  Solon,  after  a  little  dripping  consideration, 
"  she  is  sartinly  most  capericious,  and  consequentially  I 
shall  continner  tu  call  her  a  she." 

"  What  on  airth  be  you  a-savin'  that  'ere  dum'd  snake 
for,  An  twine  ?"  Sam  demanded,  noticing  the  care  the 
Canadian  took  of  the  eel. 

"  Dat  heels?  Ah'll  gem'  saved  hees  skin  of  it,  me. 
You' 11  wore  dat  'raoun'  you  backs,  you'll  ant  never  had 


144  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

lame  backaches  !  An'  it  was  de  bes'  flail  strings  you  ant 
never  t'rach  all  you  laftam  !" 

"  Humph  !  I've  hearn  tell  o'  folks  wearin'  snakes  in 
the'  hats  tu  cure  headache,  an'  I'd  jest  livs  as  tu  hev  that 
pesky  thing  waound  'raound  my  body.  Ugh  !" 

"  O  Sam,  you  was  fooler  as  a  geese  !"  and  then  to  him 
self,  as  he  tightened  his  grip  on  his  prize,  "  Lak  'nough 
you'll  gat  some  dis  snakes  in  you  body  'fore  you  tink, 
prob'ly  !" 

The  camp-fire  burned  with  unwonted  fervor  for  a  sum 
mer's  night,  while  the  drenched  anglers  dried  themselves 
in  its  warmth,  and  Antoine  vaunted  himself  as  the  hero  of 
this  latest  adventure — "Ant  Ah' 11  pooty  good  captins, 
seh,  to  save  all  dat  heel  and  de  boat  and  de  boy,  hein  ?" 


V. 

THE  COOK  FURTHER  DISTINGUISHES  HIMSELF. 

THE  young  day  was  not  out  of  its  swaddling  clothes  of 
mist  when  Antoine  began  repairing  the  damages  that  the 
scow  had  suffered  last  night,  and  the  spiteful  whacks 
wherewith  he  drove  home  the  nails  were  not  more  down 
right  and  emphatic  than  the  French  and  English  curses 
which  he  bestowed  on  heavy  boots  and  slippery  eels. 
When  the  started  plank  was  in  place  again,  he  drew  the 
boat  into  its  day-time  rushy  seclusion  and  set  about  getting 
breakfast. 

He  had  privately  made  the  eel  ready  for  the  pan  and  so 
divided  it  that  its  snake-like  form  was  not  easily  recogniz 
able.  It  was  served  up  smoking  hot,  and  relished  and 
praised  by  all  the  hungry  campers. 

"  You  put  in  your  best  licks  a-cookin'  this  'ere  fish, 
Antwine,"  said  Joseph  ;  "it's  turrible  sweet  an'  rich,  an' 
it  seems  's 'ough  you'd  picked  aout  half  the  bones,  or 
mebby  more  'n  half,  for  I  hain't  ben  bothered  scacely  any 
sortin'  on  'em  aout.  I've  hearn  tell  o'  some  ol'  fishin' 
critter  'at  c'ld  put  his  hunks  o'  fish  int'  one  corner  o'  his 
maouth  an'  let  the  bones  run  aout  o'  t'other  corner,  an' 
keep  right  on  fillin'  up  comf'able  ;  but  I  hain't  no  sech 
knack,  an'  git  hungrier  eatin'  ri'  deown  bony  fish — do* 
know  's  I  raly  git  hungrier,  but  it  takes  me  a  turrible  spell 
tu  git  satified." 


146  SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS. 

"  That  ol'  feller's  maouth  must  ha'  ben  built  arter  the 
fashion  o'  Sile  Blakely's,"  Sam  said.  "  They  uster  say 
the  top  of  his  head  'ould  ha'  ben  an  islan'  if 't  hedn't  ben 
for  his  ears.  One  June  trainin'  tu  Hamner's,  that  big 
John  Dart  sot  nex'  tu  him  tu  dinner,  an'  arter  dinner, 
when  they  was  all  settin'  raound  smokin'  an'  gabbin', 
Dart  says,  says  he,  '  I  thought  Sile  was  crazy  the  way  I  seen 
him  eatin'.'  '  What  made  ye  think  so,  John  ? '  says  Sile. 
'  Why,'  says  Dart,  *  I  thought  't  you  was  pokin'  your 
victuals  int'  your  ear,  till  I'd  watched  you  a  spell  'n'  see  't 
you  was  on'y  stickin'  'em  int'  the  corner  o'  your  maouth.' 
But  this  is  mighty  good  fish.  What  ye  done  tu  them  little 
parch  tu  make  'em  so  good  ?" 

"  Bah  gosh  !  you'll  s'pose  Ah'll  goin'  tol'  evreebodee  all 
haow  Ah'll  cook  ma  feesh  ?  Wai,  Ah  guess  no,  me. 
Prob'ly'f  you  an'  Zhozeff  an'  Solem  fan'  aout  all  haow 
Ah'll  make  it  ma  cook,  you'll  ant  want  me  some  more  't 
all  !  Den  you'll  said,  *  Antoine,  Ah  guess  dey  wan'  seen 
you  up  to  Danvit  pooty  bad;  goo'  bye.'  No,  seh  ! 
Ah'll  ant  so  fool  lak  dat  for  spile  em  up  ma  trades  !" 

"  I  du  b'lieve,  Antwine, "  said  Joseph,  casting  a  long 
ing  glance  at  the  last  savory  morsel  in  the  pan,  "  'at  if 
you'd  ha'  tackled  that  'ere  bowfin  you'd  ha'  made  it  cock 
r'yal,  e'namost  fit  for  President  Van  Buren  t'  eat." 

"  It  was  a  dumn'd  sight  tu  good  for  the  ol'  Locofoco 
cuss  as  you  cooked  it,"  said  Sam,  who  was  a  stanch 
Whig  ;  "  I  wish  t'  he  hadn't  nothin'  better  'n  raw  bowfin  t' 
eat!" 

"  No,  seh  !  Ah'll  can'  mek  dat  kan'  feesh  fit  for  be 
good,  Ah'll  hown  it  up  dat  !  But  you'll  all  gat  done  for 
heat 'ant  it?  Den  Ah'll  goin'  tol'  you  somet'ings  mek 
you  feel  good  of  it  in  you  stomach,"  and  Antoine  regarded 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  147 

his  friends  with  a  bland  smile,  while  he  ground  between 
his  palms  a  giist  of  tobacco.  "  You'll  rembler  haow 
you'll  bruse  me  for  heat  mud  turkey,  ant  it  ?" 

"Antwine!"  said  Sam  in  a  voice  expressive  of  deep 
disgust,  "  you  don't  purtend  to  say  'at  you've  ben  a-feed- 
in'  us  on  mud  turkle  ?" 

"Ant  you'll  rembler,"  said  Antoine,  waving  away  the 
question  with  the  hand  unencumbered  with  tobacco,  "  ant 
you'll  rembler  haow  you'll  mek  me  fooled  Peltiet  wid 
mash  rrrabit,  hein  ?"  Sam  nodded  a  reluctant  assent. 

"  Wai,  seh,  was  dat  any  more  wus  for  me  fid  you  mud 
turkey  ?''  And  Sam  shook  as  slow  and  reluctant  a  nega 
tive,  and  added  with  a  sigh  of  resignation,  "  Wai,  it  was 
good  if  'twas  mud  turkle." 

"  Yas  sah  !"  said  Antoine,  getting  to  the  other  side 
of  the  fireplace  as  he  filled  his  pipe  and  scooped  a  coal 
from  the  ashes  with  the  bowl,  "  it  was  a  grea'  deal  more 
wusser  as  dat.  It  was  snaikes  !" 

"  Antwine  !"  said  Sam,  rising  to  his  feet,  while  Joseph 
and  Solon  sat  apart  growing  pale  with  qualms  of  their  re 
volting  interiors,  "if  1  ever  b'lieved  a  word  t*  you  say, 
the'  'Id  be  a  Canuck  fun'al." 

"  What  for  ant  Peltiet  mek  Yankee  fumeral  ?  You'll 
long  'nough  Sam  for  mek  it  good  one,  prob'ly  two  of  it. 
Cut  you  off,  you'll  mek  fun  for  two  day.  Sermon  so  long 
you  was  evreebodee  go  sleep  an'  have  it  good  tarn,  hein  ? 
Wai,  seh,  Sam,  you'll  ant  goin'  keel  me  for  teached  you 
snaike  was  good  for  heat,  ant  it  ?  You  wait  Ah' 11  tol'  you 
what  kan'  snaikes  he  was  be.  He'll  ant  striked  snaikes,  no, 
seh.  He'll  ant  be  addler  snaikes,  no,  seh.  He'll  ant  be 
common  kan'  watry  snaikes,  but  he  kan'  watery  snaikes, 
what  you  call  snaikes.  He  was  be  heels  !  Dah,  Sam, 


148  SAAf  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

you'll  ant  wan'  keel  me  naow  for  do  you  so  good.  Prob'ly 
you'll  wan'  kees  me,  but  Ah '11  ant  let  it,  'cause  Ursule  be 
mad  'i  Ah'll  have  somebodee  kees  me  'cep'  him." 

"I'd  ort  tu  kill  you,  Antwine,  but  the  dum'd  eel  was 
good,  an'  I  knowed  't  you  was  lyin' — 1  allus  know  that 
whenever  you  speak,  I  hain't  no  more  dependence  on  ye 
'n  ol'  Amos  Jones  hed  on  his  two  boys  when  they  was 
helpin'  on  him  tend  mill.  '  Joab,'  says  he,  '  hev  ye  tolled 
this  grist?'  'Yes,  sir/  says  Joab.  'Jethro, '  says  he, 
'  hev  ye  tolled  this  grist  ? '  '  Yes,  sir,'  says  Jethro.  '  You 
both  lie  so  like  thunder  I  can't  b'lieve  a  word  ye  say,  'n' 
t'  make  sure  on  't  I'll  toll  it  myself, '  an'  the  ol'  critter  'Id 
scoop  aout  another  thirteenth." 

"  Lookin'  at  it  phillysophicably,"  said  Solon,  "  it 
hain't  sartin  'at  we  hain't  beholden  tu  Antwine  for  over- 
comin'  our  nat'ral  antiquity  tu  eels,  which  they  hes  long 
been  a  populous  food  of  human  mankind.  Aour  bein' 
prejudicial  tu  'em  hain't  exclusive  proof  'at  they  hain't 
good.  Hain't  that  so,  Jozeff  ?" 

"I  hain't  quite  settled  en  that  p'int,"  said  Joseph. 
"  Not  knowin'  'at  I  was  eatin'  eel,  I  liked  it — wal,  I 
could  eat  it.  Naow  'at  I  know  it  is  eel,  I  b'lieve  I'll  try 
that  last  lunsome  piece  in  the  pan,  an'  see  'f  my  stomach 
goes  agin  it,"  and  so  saying  he  began  upon  the  remaining 
morsel,  picking  the  few  and  easy  bones  with  critical  delib 
eration.  Then  wiping  his  lips  with  the  backs  of  alternate 
hands,  and  his  hands  on  the  legs  oi  his  trousers,  while  he 
regarded  Antoine  benignantly,  "  I  do'  know  ezactly  whether 
it's  in  the  eel  or  the  cookin',  but  it  is  sartinly  good,  an' 
'f  you'll  du  the  ketchin'  an'  the  cookin',  I'm  willin'  t'  du 
what  eatin'  I  can  in  my  feeble  way.  The  ketchin',  mind 
ye,  Antwine.  Sam  Hill  !  haow  the  'tarnal  critter  went 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  149 

scootin'  'mongst  aour  laigs.  Ugh  !  I'd  liveser  handle  a 
snaike  !" 

"  What  dat  nowse  ?"  Antoine  asked,  turning  an  atten 
tive  ear  toward  the  creek. 

The  regular  squeak  and  splash  of  approaching  oars  was 
presently  heard  by  all,  and  they  went  down  to  the  landing 
with  the  hope  of  getting  some  news  of  the  upstream  world, 
or  with  a  curiosity  to  know  who  was  passing.  In  those  days 
the  sluggish  current  of  Little  Otter  often  slept  day  in  and 
day  out  among  its  rushes,  undisturbed  by  oar  or  paddle  of 
fisherman,  and  the  infrequent  boat  that  awoke  it  to  a 
ripple  was  worth  looking  at.  Our  friends  had  seen  no 
craft  but  their  own  since  Uncle  Tyler's  departure  till 
now. 

The  dumpy  figure  now  approaching  in  a  scow  propelled 
by  slow,  laborious  strokes,  often  withheld  while  the  rower 
turned  his  head  to  mark  his  course,  had  a  familiar  look 
to  Sam  and  Antoine,  and  when  abreast  of  the  landing  he 
became  aware  of  them,  and  his  gaping  face  was  lighted  up 
with  a  grin  of  pleased  recognition,  they  perceived  it  was 
their  last  spring's  adversary  of  the  trapping  grounds. 

"  Hello  !  Danvis,  who'd  ever  ha'  thought  o'  seein'  you 
here  ;  'n'  here's  Peasoup,  tu  !  Hello,  Peasoup  I" 

Antoine  silently  congratulated  himself  on  his  discretion 
in  not  having  disclosed  to  Solon  and  Joseph  that  this  was 
the  antagonist  whom  he  had  vanquished  in  the  great  fight, 
which  he  had  more  than  once  told  them  of,  for  the  man 
carried  himself  most  unseemly  for  a  conquered  foe,  and 
Antoine  was  quite  ashamed  of  him. 

"  Wai,  I'm  glad  t'  see  ye,"  the  new- comer  said,  heading 
his  boat  for  the  landing  and  bringing  her  into  it  with  a 
swash,  "but  I  never  thought  o'  seein'  you  this  time  o' 


150  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

year,  though  I  was  a-thinkin'  on  ye  when  I  come  past  the 
East  Slang." 

"  Yes,  we  hed  consid'able  fun  up  there  last  spring," 
Sam  said,  "  one  way  'n'  'nother,  a-spearin'  an'  a — "  He 
was  at  a  loss  to  name  another  sport  without  referring  to 
possibly  unpleasant  topics. 

"  A-trappin'  an'  chawin'  gum,  an'  bathin',"  said  the 
new-comer,  helping  Sam  out  and  shutting  the  eye  nearest 
him  in  a  long  tight  wink  that  comically  distorted  that  side 
of  his  face. 

"  Wai,  yes,  so  we  did,  come  tu  think  on't  ;"  and  then, 
as  if  to  think  of  it  long  might  not  be  pleasant,  and  with  a 
desire  to  change  the  subject,  Sam  asked  :  "  Fishin'  much 
nowadays  ?' ' 

"  Fishin'  !  Wai,  I  guess  not  much.  Don't  git  no 
time."  Sam  remembering  that  this  man's  nickname  was 
Time,  thought  he  might  find  it  difficult  to  induce  himself 
to  make  so  great  an  effort  as  to  go  a-fishing,  for  he  looked 
the  very  personification  of  laziness. 

"  I  hain't  fishin',"  he  exclaimed,  lifting  his  feet  ashore 
while  he  sat  on  the  broad  bow  of  his  boat.  "  I  kinder 
thought  Fd  go  daown  t'  the  san'bar  an'  git  me  some  sand 
tu  make  some  mortar.  Ben  goin'  t'  patch  my  suller  wall 
these  ten  year,  but  can't  never  git  no  time,  an'  I  kinder 
thought  Fd  look  along  some  for  my  scaow  boat  'at  went 
off  in  the  high  water  last  spring.  Somebody  er  'nother 
tol'  a-seein'  it  daown  this  way  in  the  ma'sh,  but  I  p'sume 
likely  some  cuss  has  stole  it  'fore  naow.  Hain't  seen 
nothin'  on  't  ?  Painted  red  oncte,  an'  fixed  for  a  jack,  an' 
burned  some  here  for'ad  where  sparks  fell  on't.  Not  quite 
so  big  's  this  one  't  I  borried,  but  a  good  sight  better. 
Hain't  seen  no  sech  boat?"  His  slow,  inquiring  look 


SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS.  151 

rested  last  and  longest  on  Antoine,  whose  mind  was  now 
greatly  perplexed,  for  he  doubted  not  that  the  boat  he  had 
found  was  the  one  now  desired  and  sought  for  by  this 
man,  and  it  lay  within  twenty  feet  of  them,  where  if  its 
owner  arose  to  his  feet  he  must  see  it,  so  evidently  placed 
with  intention  of  concealment  that  they  would  all  be  dis 
graced.  Making  the  best  of  disagreeable  necessity,  he 
hastened  to  speak  before  one  of  his  friends  could  : 

"  Yas  seh  !"  he  cried,  grinning  a  well-simulated  ex 
pression  of  pleased  suiprise,  "  Ah'll  b'lieved  Ah'll  fan' 
dat  boat,  pruppus  for  you,  seh  !  an'  Ah'll  rippair  it  all  up 
so  he  was  mos'  better  as  he  was  new.  'F  Ah'll  had  some 
paint  Ah  was  paint  it  for  you,  but  he  was  look  pooty  good, 
Ah  tol'  you.  Jes'  looked  here!"  leading  the  way  to  it 
and  beating  aside  the  rushes  with  both  hands.  "  Ant  dat 
heem?" 

"  Her,  Antwine,"  cried  Solon,  correcting  him — "  her  is 
the  properest  sect  to  speak  of  a  boat  in. " 

"  Oh,  go  to  dev'  !  Dis  boats  ant  dat  man's  waf,  ant  it  ? 
He'll  gat  no  diffence  what  you'll  call  it  heems  or  she, 
prob'  ly. ' ' 

"  Wai,  I'll  be  blest  if  that  hain't  my  ol'  scaow, "  said 
Father  Time,  after  critically  examining  the  craft  and. then 
sitting  down  on  its  cinder-scarred  bow,  with  a  satisfied  and 
restful  air,  "I'm  almighty  obleeged  tu  ye,  Mr.  Peasoup, 
for  takin'  so  much  trouble  to  save  it  for  me  an'  fix  it  up, 
tew. ' ' 

"  Bah  gosh  !  Ah  was  glad  of  it,  seh,  an'  de  honly  ting 
Ah'll  was  sorry  for  Zhozeff  an'  Solem.  Dey  can'  bose  of 
it  sit  up  on  ma  can-noe  !  Dey  can'  git  on  Sam  't  all  ! 
Ah  do'  know  haow  dey'll  goin'  to  fishin's  naow,  'less 
Ah'll  buil'  raf  for  it." 


I52  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

"  I  p'sume  likely  you  was  cal'latin'  tu  fetch  my  scaow 
up  tu  me  jest  as  soon's  you  faound  aout  who  owned  it, 
wa'n't  ye?"  Time  asked,  casting  a  comical  leer  on  An- 
toine. 

"  Dat  was  so  !"  Antoine  said,  emphasizing  each  word 
with  a  gesture.  "  Ah '11  ask  it  prob'ly  t'ree,  prob'ly  four 
mans  'f  he'll  b'long  to  it.  Ant  it  t'ree,  four,  Sam?" 
winking  at  his  friend  and  beginning  to  count  imaginary 
persons  on  his  fingers.  **  Le'  me  see — yas,  Ah  b'lieve 
four,  hein  ?" 

'  You  might  'f  you  happened  tu  see  'em,"  Sam  said 
aloud,  adding  in  an  undertone  to  himself,  "  Dum'd  'fa 
Canuck  hedn't  druther  lie  'n  t'  tell  the  truth,  any  time, 
an'  'f  he  c'ld  make  the  hull  toot  on  us  lie  for  'im  he'd  be 
happy. " 

"  Hain't  these  fellers  water  faowl  'nough  tu  keep  right 
side  up  in  your  cannews,  Danvis  ?"  Time  asked,  indicat 
ing  Joseph  and  Solon  by  a  sidewise  jerk  of  his  head. 

"  Wai,  they  hain't  much  uster  boatin'  in  anything  but 
stun  boats  an'  lumber  waggins,"  Sam  admitted. 

"Wai,  'f 't '11  be  any  'commodation  tu  ye,  I'll  leave 
that  'ere  scaow  for  ye  an'  go  hum  in  mine.  It  rows  easier 
'n  that,  an*  I  guess  Gage  won't  want  his'n  for  a  spell.  It 
won't  tip  over  no  easier  'n  it  rows,  an'  it'll  du  tol'able  well 
for  slill-fishin'." 

"Me  an'  Solon's  a  thaousan'  times  'bleeged  tu  ye," 
said  Joseph  ;  "we  don't  want  to  du  no  tippin'  over  ner 
not  much  oarin',  an'  it'll  du  us  fustrate  ;  'f  the  bottom 
hain't  made  tu  come  aout  when  you  ketch  eels,  I'd  a 
leetle  druther  hev'  it  'n  yourn. "  And  in  reply  to  Time's 
inquiring  look  he  related  the  mishap  of  last  evening  to  the 
great  amusement  of  that  worthy.  When  he  had  had  his 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  153 

long,  lazy  laugh  out  he  arose,  and  looking  awhile  at  the 
sandy  point  not  far  below  said,  with  a  yawn,  "Wai,  I 
b'lieve  I  won't  go  daown  t'  the  san'bar  t'day  ;  I'll  git 
rowin'  'nough  by  the  time  't  I  git  hum.  I  can't  stan'  it 
t'  row  much — it  makes  me  sweat.  I  c'n  fix  that  suller  wall 
arter  hayin'.  If  you've  got  some  good  worms  dug,  le's  g' 
wup  t'  the  maouth  o'  the  Slang  an*  ketch  a  mess  o'  pike. 
They'd  orter  bite  t'day.  We'll  go  in  the  two  scaows. 
What  d'  ye  say  ?  Me  and  Peasoup  in  mine  an'  the  rest 
on  ye  in  t'  other. ' ' 

His  proposal  being  accepted,  they  brought  bait  and 
tackle  from  camp  and  embarked.  Antoine  took  the  oars 
at  the  bidding  of  Time  and  pulled  the  smaller  scow  in  the 
lead.  The  other  followed,  paddled  by  Sam  with  the  awk 
ward  aid  of  Joseph  and  Solon.  It  required  all  Sam's 
strength  and  skill  to  keep  her  at  all  on  her  course,  and 
even  so  they  had  ample  opportunity  to  view  the  landscape 
on  every  side.  When  at  last  they  reached  the  stakes  at 
the  South  Slang  and  moored  their  boats  there,  they  had 
no  great  luck  in  fishing,  as  Time  and  Antoine  prophesied 
they  would  not  when  they  remarked  several  villainous- 
looking  gar  pike  swimming  about  just  beneath  the  surface. 
Yet  now  and  then  a  pike-perch  was  tempted  to  venture 
underneath  and  past  these  visible  terrors  and  seize  the 
greater  danger  hidden  in  the  loops  of  fat  worms,  when  if 
by  the  awkwardness  of  his  captors  he  was  not  swung  over 
board  to  freedom,  purchased  with  a  torn  lip  or  jaw,  he 
presently  found  himself  floundering  in  the  bottom  of  the 
scow.  Once  Antoine  hauled  up  an  ugly  ling,  which  Sam 
told  Joseph  was  "  one  o'  his  bowfins  'at  had  forgot  his 
scales,"  but  Antoine  oracularly  informed  them  that  this 
"  was  de  mudder  of  de  heel,"  for  thus  he  had  long  since 


154  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

settled   to  his  own   satisfaction   the  vexed    question  of  the 
generation  of  the  eel. 

'  You're  sartin  'at  eels  come  f'm  lings,  be  ye  ?"  Time 
asked  in  a  tone  that  plainly  indicated  his  unbelief  in  this 
theory. 

"  Yes,  sah  !     Ah' 11  seen  it  !"   said  Antoine. 

"  Wai,  they  don't !  Du  ye  want  I  sh'ld  tell  ye  where 
eels  come  from  ?' ' 

"  Ah'll  ant  want  you.  Ah '11  know  all  of  it,"  Antoine 
said,  but  the  others  signified  their  willingness  to  be  in 
formed. 

'*  Wai,  then,"  said  Time,  "  eels  comes  f'm  clams,  them 
fresh-water  clams  'at  you  c'n  see  thaousan's  on  any  day 
daown  yunder  in  the  shaller  water  to  the  san'bar.  I  know 
it,  'cause  I've  seen  hunderds  o'  little  eels  in  'em,  not 
bigger  'n  pin  points." 

"  Haow  you'll  know  he  was  heel  'f  he  ant  more  bigger 
as  pint  pins  ?"  Antoine  roared  in  the  big  voice  the  Canuck 
assumes  when  he  would  make  himself  terrible. 

"Where  du  eels  come  from,  then?"  Time  loudly  de 
manded. 

"  L-l  leeng,  ant  Ah' 11  tol'  you  ?"  Antoine  roared  again, 
lifting  himself  from  his  seat  with  a  grip  of  both  hands  on 
the  seat  of  his  trousers. 

"  Clams  !  clams  !  clams  !"  Time  bellowed  in  a  cres 
cendo  so  vociferous  that  it  frightened  the  skimming  swal 
lows  from  their  pretty  sport  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
boats. 

"  Say,"  Sam  said  in  a  lull  of  the  storm  of  words,  "  'f 
you  fellers  don't  stop  hollerin'  so,  you'll  hev  ol'  Uncle 
Tyler  comin'  daown  here  tu  see  what  the  rumpus  is,  not 
to  say  nothin'  o'  scarin'  all  the  fish  aouten  the  crik. " 


SAM   LOVEL'S  CAMPS.  155 

Indeed,  the  day  was  too  pleasant  to  be  disturbed  by  even 
the  discussions  of  science. 

Across  the  sunny  blue  sky  drifted  only  silver  shreds  of 
clouds,  too  thin  to  cast  a  shadow  on  the  sunlit  marshes, 
and  shores,  and  quiet  waters  ;  throughout  the  rushy  level 
the  marsh  wrens  discordantly  rejoiced  over  the  building  of 
their  cunning  nests  ;  in  the  woods  the  wood  and  hermit 
thrushes  rang  silver  bells  and  breathed  celestial  flute  notes, 
and  the  jangle  of  a  thousand  bobolinks  came  from  the 
meadows. 

The  peaceful  spirit  of  the  scene  presently  took  possession 
of  our  anglers  again,  and  they  plied  the  gentle  art  in  such 
serenity  of  mind  as  its  father  might  desire,  till  the  conch 
shells  of  half  a  dozen  farmhouses  reminded  them  of  dinner 
time. 

Then  Antoine  transferred  himself  to  the  larger  craft,  and 
Time,  declining  an  invitation  to  return  to  camp  and  dine 
with  them,  took  to  his  oars,  though  with  much  less  stomach 
for  rowing  than  for  dinner. 

"  Oh,  say  !"  Sam  called  to  him  as  the  lazy  wake  of  his 
departure  began  to  stir  the  rushes,  "  'f  you  hev  a  chance 
tu  send  word  tu  a  young  feller  o'  the  name  o'  Peltier 
Gove  'at's  a-workin'  for  Mr.  Bartlett  up  on  the  stage 
rhud,  tell  'im't  we're  here,  an'  tu  comedaown  'f  he  can." 

"  All  right,"  Time  answered,  when  his  ears  had  thor 
oughly  digested  the  message. 

Long  after  he  had  passed  out  of  sight  they  could  hear 
the  splash  of  his  oars  and  his  voice  unmelodiously  cheer 
ing  his  labors  with  the  song  of  "  Old  King  Cole." 

The  shadow  of  the  bluff  was  creeping  toward  the  north 
east  when  they  reached  camp,  and  when  the  fish  were 
dressed,  cooked,  and  eaten,  the  day  was  too  far  spent  for 


156  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

the  undertaking  of  any  further  great  affair,  so  they  paddled 
the  scow  out  of  the  creek  on  to  the  shallows  of  the  bay, 
and  there  passed  the  remaining  hours  of  the  daylight  in 
the  comfort  of  perfect  laziness.  When  the  mountains 
loomed  black  against  the  afterglow  of  the  sky,  and  the  star 
of  Split  Rock  light  began  to  shed  its  crinkled  ray  across 
the  darkening  waters,  they  paddled  into  the  gloom  of  the 
landing. 

Presently  the  camp-fire  lit  up  the  tent  front,  the  tree 
trunks,  the  canopy  of  leafy  branches,  and  the  little  circle 
of  mossy  ground,  frayed  into  the  surrounding  darkness  :  all 
of  the  world  that  they  then  cared  to  have  illumined  for 
them. 


VI. 

PELATIAH'S    LIFE    IN    THE    LOWLANDS. 

SOON  after  his  visit  to  Sam  and  Antoine  at  their  trapping 
camp,  Pelatiah  had  returned  to  Lakefield  and  taken  service 
for  the  season  with  Friend  Bartlett.  The  smiles  of  the 
pretty  hired  girl,  the  memory  of  which  had  almost  as  great 
a  share  as  the  wages  offered  in  luring  him  from  his  moun 
tain  home,  had  thus  far  continued  to  brighten  his  life  and 
make  his  faithful  toil  light,  since  it  was  rewarded  morning, 
noon,  and  night  by  the  sight  of  the  face  that  had  become 
to  him  the  most  beautiful,  by  the  sound  of  the  voice  that 
was  the  sweetest  in  all  the  world. 

One  Sunday  morning  in  June  the  peace  and  quietness  of 
the  day  seemed  to  have  reached  their  fulness  in  and  about 
the  Quaker  homestead.  Pelatiah  sat  whittling  on  the 
platform  of  the  well  with  his  back  against  the  pump,  just 
breathing  "Old  Hundred"  through  his  puckered  lips. 
Near  him  stood  the  fat  and  sedate  old  horse  which  he  had 
just  harnessed  to  the  "  shay,"  and  by  his  side  lay  the  fat 
old  dog,  who,  in  semblance  of  sleep,  was  waiting  to  ac 
company  his  master  and  mistress  to  meeting.  He  could 
hear  hardly  a  sound  coming  from  the  open  doors  and  win 
dows  of  the  house.  The  buzz  of  a  bumblebee  imprisoned 
by  the  raised  sash  of  the  kitchen  window  was  loud  enough 
to  well-nigh  drown  the  almost  noiseless  footsteps  of  Friend 
Rebecca  Bartlett  as  she  moved  to  and  fro  in  preparation 


158  ,  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

for  departure,  though  occasionally  above  these  was  heard 
the  cautious,  long-drawn  clearing  of  Friend  John  Bartlett's 
throat,  accomplished  with  care  that  it  should  be  thor 
oughly  though  not  too  loudly  done,  partly  as  practice  for 
the  same  performance  during  the  stillness  of  meeting,  and 
partly  as  a  reminder  to  his  wife  that  he  was  waiting  for  her. 
The  hens  in  the  dooryard  clucked  and  crated  in  subdued 
tones,  and  the  old  red  rooster,  though  his  gay  feathers 
were  sadly  "  out  of  plainness, "  kept  as  decorously  "  in  the 
quiet,"  as  if  he  was  a  member  of  his  owner's  sect.  Two 
or  three  frivolous  swallows  twittered  and  swooped  in  pur 
suit  of  floating  feathers,  but  the  great  body  of  the  tenants 
of  the  eaves  were  holding  a  silent  meeting  on  the  barn  roof. 
The  bobolinks  in  the  meadow,  beyond  the  influence  of 
the  First  Day  atmosphere  of  the  staid  homestead,  withheld 
not  a  note  of  their  rnerry  songs,  meant,  perhaps,  only  for 
world's  people  and  naughty  strawberry  pickers,  but  the 
robins  in  the  apple-trees  were  as  voiceless  as  the  unstirred 
leaves,  and  the  catbird  skulked  in  silence  along  the  row 
of  currant  bushes.  Pelatiah  wondered  if  the  pump  would 
utter  its  usual  discordant  shriek,  and  was  almost  tempted 
to  raise  the  handle.  Then  through  forgetfulness  or  impa 
tience  he  whistled  aloud  a  few  notes  of  the  old  Psalm  tune, 
and  Rebecca  came  to  the  door  tying  the  strings  of  her 
"  sugar  scoop"  bonnet. 

"Peltiah,"  she  said  in  a  mildly  severe  tone,  "  thee 
needn't  whistle  for  Bose,  he's  right  there  by  thee  !  Thee 
may  bring  up  the  horse  now." 

While  Pelatiah  pocketed  his  knife  and  arose,  brushing 
the  shavings  from  his  trousers,  she  went  back  to  free  the 
bumblebee  from  its  glass  prison,  brushing  it  down  the 
lowered  sash  with  a  folded  handkerchief  which  exhaled  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  159 

faint  odor  of  dried  rose  leaves.  "  Now,  get  off  with  thee, 
thee  foolish  thing!"  she  said,  as  the  bee  blundered  away 
into  its  regained  paradise  of  out-door  June. 

The  chaise  lumbered  up  to  the  horse-block,  and  the 
good  couple  got  on  board,  Bose  soberly  wagging  his  tail 
as  he  supeiintended  their  embarkation. 

"Don't  thee  think  thee'd  better  go  to  meeting,  Pel- 
tiah  ?' '  Rebecca  asked,  getting  the  young  man  within  the 
narrow  range  of  her  deep  bonnet.  She  asked  him  this 
question  every  First  Day  morning,  and  was  regularly  an 
swered,  "  Wai,  no,  inarm,  I  guess  not  this  mornin'." 

They  slowly  got  under  way,  and  when  they  were  out  of 
earshot  of  the  hired  man,  Rebecca  remarked  :  * '  Peltiah 
seems  like  a  steady  young  man,  but  it  is  a  pity  he  isn't 
more  seriously  inclined." 

"  He's  a  master  hand  with  a  hoe,"  her  husband  said, 
looking  down  the  even  rows  of  his  young  corn,  where  not 
a  weed  was  to  be  seen  among  the  green  sprouts  that  reg 
ularly  dotted  the  mellow  soil,  "  and  I  do'  know  as  I  ever 
see  a  better  milker." 

Pelatiah  was  anticipating  a  day  of  perfect  happiness,  for 
the  girl,  whose  name  was  spelled  Louisa  and  pronounced 
Lowizy,  had  as  good  as  asked  him  to  go  to  the  woods 
with  her  for  young  wintergreens.  That  morning  when  he 
brought  in  the  milk  and  they  were  alone  in  the  cheese 
room,  she  had  said  there  were  "  lots  of  'em  up  in  the 
maounting" — the  rocky  hill  which  Lakefield  folk  honored 
with  that  name,  for  a  mountain  they  must  have,  and  this 
of  all  the  hills  in  town  came  nearest  being  one — "  lots  an' 
sacks  of  'em,  an'  anybody  might  git  a  snag  of  'em  if  they 
was  to  go  up  there  naow.  She  wish't  she  had  some,  but 
she  dasn't  go  alone,  for  she  knew  she  should  git  lost,  an' 


160  SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

the'  was  an  ugly  toro  in  Austin's  pasturV  Pelatiah  felt 
that  he  would  brave  all  the  bulls  in  Lakefield  to  gather  a 
handful  of  aromatic  leaves  for  her,  but  he  had  not  the 
courage  to  tell  her  so,  and  only  said  he  would  get  them 
for  her  if  he  knew  where  to  find  them.  Whereupon  she 
giggled  and  said  that  :?he  would  go  and  show  him  where 
they  grew,  and  that  then,  if  there  was  time  enough  and  she 
could  "  stan'  it,"  they  might  go  to  the  Pinnacle,  where 
they  "  could  see  all  creation  an'  part  o'  York  State."  So 
it  seemed  settled  that  when  chores  were  done  and  the  old 
folks  had  gone  to  meeting,  they  should  go  "  a-browsin'," 
as  Pelatiah  inelegantly  termed  it. 

Now  he  was  waiting  for  her,  while  he  conned  gallant 
phrases  and  neat  compliments,  and  thought  just  how  he 
would  tell  her  that  he  "  liked  "  her.  How  easy  it  all  was 
now,  as  he  rehearsed  it  to  his  heart,  but  he  knew  that  op 
portunity  would  fiighten  away  all  utterance,  and  he  reviled 
himself  for  a  bashful  booby.  Yet  he  felt  himself  brave 
enough  in  the  face  of  real  danger,  and  if  the  terrible  bull 
that  kept  all  the  berry-pickers  out  of  Austin's  pasture  would 
but  attack  them  he  would  show  his  devotion,  how  he 
would  defend  her  even  at  the  cost  of  his  life.  If  the  bull 
was  put  to  flight  then  she  would  faint,  as  in  such  cases 
young  ladies  always  did  in  the  stories  he  read,  and  he 
would  bear  her  in  his  arms  to  the  nearest  brook  and  bathe 
her  face  till  he  brought  her  out  of  her  swoon.  He  had 
never  carried  a  young  lady  in  his  arms  ;  Lowizy  was  a 
buxom  maiden,  no  light  weight  certainly,  but  he  thought 
he  could  manage  such  a  precious  burden,  though  it  would 
be  more  easily  done  if  she  could  be  induced  to  ride  pick 
aback,  which,  however,  would  not  be  in  accordance  with 
the  established  usage  of  the  stories.  When  she  was  re- 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  161 

stored  to  consciousness,  opened  her  eyes  and  saw  him 
bending  over  her,  what  if  he  could  not  help  pressing  his 
lips  to  her  pale  cheek  ?  He  blushed  to  think  of  it,  and 
wondered  if  she  would  ever  forgive  him.  If  he  should  be 
badly  hurt,  who  but  she  would  nurse  him  ;  and  if  he  died 
how  could  she  help  but  grieve  for  him  ?  The  thought  of 
it  almost  made  him  shed  a  tear  for  himself.  But  then  it 
was  very  likely  that  the  bull  was  a  harmless  bugbear  whose 
viciousness  was  an  invention  of  the  owner  of  the  field,  and 
would  give  Pelatiah  no  chance  of  heroic  deeds.  So  he 
drifted  back  to  imaginary  commonplace  opportunities,  till 
Lowizy  came  to  the  door  more  bewitching  than  ever,  in  a 
pink  calico  dress  and  a  white  apron  with  two  little  pockets 
stuck  upon  it  like  swallows'  nests  made  of  snow,  useless 
but  pretty. 

Just  then  a  young  fellow,  seated  in  a  square-boxed  wagon 
of  amazing  height,  drove  up  at  a  pace  which  seemed  reck 
less,  considering  how  far  above  the  ground  he  was  perched  ; 
and  as  recklessly  he  sprang  down  to  the  ground,  endanger 
ing  the  straps  of  his  trousers,  the  long  swallow  tails  of  his 
blue  coat  streaming  upward  and  the  brass  buttons  flashing. 
He  drew  near  to  Lowizy,  who  greeted  him  too  warmly  and 
with  too  great  a  display  of  her  best  manners,  Pelatiah 
thought,  as  he  stood  aloof  glowering  at  the  new-comer, 
while  the  two  conversed  earnestly,  though  in  a  tone  too 
low  for  any  word  to  reach  his  ear.  Then  she  ran  into  the 
house  ;  and  Pelatiah's  heart  grew  sick  with  a  foreboding 
of  disappointment.  He  tried  to  whistle  in  token  of  indif 
ference,  but  his  sullen  pout  wouldn't  be  utilized  as  a 
pucker,  and  though  defiant  and  attempting  to  fortify  him 
self  with  the  inward  assurance  that  he  was  as  good  as  the 
finest  dandy  of  the  lowlands,  he  could  not  help  feeling 


1 62  SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS, 

mean  and  awkward  as  he  contrasted  his  suit  of  sheep's 
gray,  new  though  it  was,  and  as  much  too  long  for  him  as 
all  former  clothes  had  been  too  short,  with  the  gay  and 
fashionable  apparel  of  his  till  now  unsuspected  rival.  It 
was  exasperating  to  see  the  fellow  take  out  a  cigar,  and 
having  decided  which  end  to  light,  begin  to  puff  it ;  and 
then  with  his  thumbs  in  the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat 
strut  back  and  forth  beside  the  wagon.  "  Tew  high  an' 
mighty  tu  take  a  noticte  on  me,  hain't  ye  ?  For  all,  the  top 
o'  your  plegged  shiny  hat  hain't  so  high  as  the  seat  o'  yer 
wagon  box  !"  Pelatiah  inwardly  addressed  him.  "  Oh  ! 
you're  a  gol  buster,  hain't  ye?  I'll  bate  a  cooky  I  c'ld 
heave  ye  ov'  the  top  o'  yer  dum'd  ol'  waggin  !" 

All  unconscious  of  such  disparagement  and  of  everything 
but  the  fine  figure  he  must  be  making,  the  rustic  little 
dandy  strutted  in  his  pride  till  Lowizy  reappeared  with 
some  new  finery  added  to  her  attire  and  a  useless  little 
parasol  in  her  hand.  When  he  had  gallantly  assisted  her 
to  scale  the  steps  of  the  wagon  and  the  "  boost,"  as 
Pelatiah  to  himself  termed  the  feat,  had  been  accom 
plished,  he  climbed  in.  Not  till  the  fine  equipage  began 
to  turn  in  perilous  haste  did  Lowizy  bestow  a  word  or 
glance  on  Pelatiah.  Then  as  she  spread  her  parasol  she 
looked  back,  and  said  :  "  Mr.  Gove,  when  the  folks  re 
turn,  tell  'em  that  my  maw  is  quite  sick  an'  I've  got  to  go 
hum — ahem — go  home  an'  see  her." 

"I  guess  her  maw  hain't  turrible  bad  off,"  Pelatiah 
said  bitterly,  when  a  few  moments  later  he  heard  her  laugh 
ringing  down  the  road  as  merry  and  care  free  as  the  song 
of  the  bobolinks.  So  sick  at  heart  that  his  knees  were 
weak,  he  leaned  on  the  door-yard  fence  and  watched  them 
out  of  sight.  So  the  stories  he  had  read  of  the  fickleness 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  163 

of  women  were  not  fictions,  but  simple  truth,  were  they  ? 
It  was  hard  to  learn  it  by  actual  experience,  hard  to  lose 
the  simple  faith  that  all  things  are  as  they  seem,  that  affec 
tion  may  be  no  moie  than  an  outward  show,  and  kind 
words  have  no  meaning.  His  honest  heart  was  so  sorely 
hurt  that  the  counter-irritant  of  anger  could  not  cure  it 
now  ;  there  was  no  present  cure  for  it,  but  he  bethought 
him  that  there  might  be  a  balm  for  it  in  the  sanctuary  of 
the  woods,  to  which  he  had  often  fled  when  assailed  by 
lesser  ills.  He  would  not  go  to  that  contemptible  little 
mountain  of  Lakefield,  to  be  continually  reminded  there 
of  the  happy  hours  he  had  been  cheated  of,  but  to  the 
great  woods  westward,  deep  and  dark  enough  to  hide  him 
from  the  false,  hateful,  wicked  world. 

He  cast  the  unaccustomed  summer  burden  of  his  thick 
sheep's  gray  coat  on  the  nearest  plum-tree  of  the  door- 
yard,  and  in  the  regained  freedom  of  shirt-sleeves  felt  his 
heart  somewhat  lighter  as  he  pushed  toward  the  Slang. 
On  a  fallen  tree  he  crossed  its  narrow  upper  channel  where 
the  border  of  the  green  marsh  was  gay  with  the  purple 
blossoms  of  flags,  where  a  lonely  heron  stalked  in  fancied 
seclusion,  and  where  a  bittern,  perhaps  his  last  spring's 
acquaintance,  startled  him  almost  off  his  balanced  foot 
hold,  with  her  affrighted  squawk  and  sudden  uprising  to 
her  labored  flight 

Breasting  the  undergrowth  of  the  bank,  he  was  soon  in 
the  midday  twilight  of  the  ancient  forest,  where  brooded 
a  solemnity  greater  than  within  any  temple  built  by  hands, 
a  silence  deepened  rather  than  broken  by  the  summer  note 
of  a  chickadee,  the  chimes  of  a  wood-thrush,  and  the  sigh 
of  the  unfelt  breeze  in  the  tops  of  the  great  pines  and 
hemlocks. 


164  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

Pelatiah  took  his  way  along  an  old  lumber  road,  where 
sled  tracks  and  footprints  of  oxen,  made  in  the  latest  of 
last  spring's  sledding,  were  almost  overgrown  with  forest 
herbage,  and  every  mossy  cradle  knoll  was  starred  with  the 
white  flowers  of  dwarf  cornel  or  glowed  with  the  blood- red 
drops  of  the  partridge  berry. 

It  made  his  recent  wound  twinge  again  when  he  came 
upon  a  patch  of  wintergreen,  the  "  young-come-ups" 
showing  the  tender  tints  of  the  first  unfolded  leaves  among 
the  rusty  and  dark-green  leaves  and  plump  crimson  berries 
of  the  old  plants.  What  happy  moments  he  had  thought 
to  spend  gathering  the  freshest  and  tenderest  for  the  girl 
who  had  so  cruelly  forsaken  him.  He  could  not  taste  nor 
touch  one  now,  and  was  sure  he  never  could  again,  for 
even  the  sight  of  them  made  him  sick. 

On  either  side  of  the  way  stood  old  friends  to  welcome 
him — great  hemlocks,  maples,  whose  sweets  only  the  Ind 
ians  and  squirrels  had  tasted,  poplars  shivering  with  the 
'memory  of  a  century's  winters,  towering  elms  and  bass- 
woods,  and  all  the  graceful  birches.  He  saw  also  a  few 
great  pines  which  had  thus  far  escaped  the  lumberman, 
hickories  with  sharded  trunks,  and  noble  white  oaks,  all 
strangers  to  him  in  the  woods  of  Danvis  ;  but  he  missed 
his  familiars,  the  spruce  and  balsam  firs,  their  songs  and 
the  odor  of  their  breath.  A  shrewish  jay  came  to  scold 
him,  a  squirrel  to  scoff  at  him,  a  shy  wood  bird,  some 
constant  dweller  in  the  forest's  heart,  flitted  near  and 
watched  him  with  timid  curiosity  ;  a  mother  partridge 
made  a  fluttering  pother  almost  at  his  feet,  while  her  cal 
low  brood  dispersed  like  a  sudden  spatter  of  fluffy  yellow 
balls  and  magically  disappeared. 

With   no  purpose  of  reaching  any  particular  point  he 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  165 

wandered  on,  holding  his  way  along  the  dim  woodland 
aisle  till  it  led  where  sunlight  and  blue  sky  shone  from  the 
outer  world  through  the  green-gold  leaves  and  netted 
branches  of  the  marsh's  palisade  of  water  maples. 

Passing  under  these  he  saw  the  creek,  the  bold  bluff  at 
its  mouth,  and  beyond  a  broad  blue  strip  of  the  lake. 
When  his  eyes  became  used  to  the  sunshine  he  saw  figures 
moving  beneath  the  bluff  on  the  farther  shore,  and  heard 
voices  that  somehow  seemed  familiar.  There  was  no  mis 
taking  Sam  Level's  voice  when  presently  he  loudly  called 
Antoine's  name,  nor  the  Canadian's  when  he  answered. 

Pelatiah  hastily  mounted  a  huge  fallen  tree  that  reached 
well  out  into  the  marsh,  and  shouted  lustily,  "  Hello, 
Sam  !  Antwine  !  whoop  !  Come  over  here.  It's  me, 
Peltier." 

The  figures  became  motionless  in  attention,  then  drew 
together  in  brief  consultation,  then  one  detached  itself 
from  the  group,  a  paddle  banged  against  a  boat's  side,  a 
canoe  drew  out  from  the  landing,  came  swiftly  up  the 
channel  and  swished  into  the  wide  marsh  in  front  of  him. 

"  I  never  was  so  glad  tu  see  anybody  in  all  this  ever- 
lastin'  world,"  said  the  heartsick  and  homesick  big  boy  as 
his  friend  Sam  stepped  on  shore  and  shook  hands  with 
him.  "  Of  all  folks  I  never  hed  no  thought  o'  seein' 
you,  an'  me  on'yshoolin'  'raound  in  the  woods  jest  tu  kill 
time." 

"  If  you'd  ha'  come  yist'd'y  you  'Id  hed  a  good  chance 
tu  kill  Time,  for  he  was  a-fishin'  with  us.  That  feller, 
you  know,"  he  explained,  answering  Pelatiah's  inquiring 
look,  <c  'at  come  a-spearin'  in  our  camp  las'  spring.  His 
real  name  is  Joe  suthin'-er-nuther,  but  his  pardner  called 
'im  Time  'cause  he  favors  Time  in  the  primer,  an'  so  we 


1 66  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

du,  not  tu  git  him  mixed  up  wi'  Joe  Hill.  He's  a  clever 
cretur',  but  lazier  'n  a  fattin'  hawg  an'  slower  'n  col' 
m'lasses.  Wai,  Peltier,  haow  be  you  gittin'  along  ?  Like 
your  place  ?"  Sam  asked,  seating  himself  on  a  log  and 
making  ready  for  a  smoke,  deferred  since  he  left  the  camp 
landing. 

"Wai,  yes,"  Pelatiah  said,  slowly  considering  his  an 
swer,  "  yes,  I  hev  liked  it  fustrate. " 

"  Hev  liked  it?  You  hain't  hed  no  fallin'  aout  wi'  the 
folks,  I  hope." 

"  No,  not  no  fallin'  aout  wi'  them.  Do'  know  haow 
't  I  could,  for  they're  the  cleverest  folks  in  all  creation." 

"  Wai,  that  pretty  gal  hain't  gigged  back  on  ye  ?" 

No  answer  but  a  look  of  woebegone  sheepishness. 

"  Oh,  shaw,  Peltier,  nev'  mind  a  gal's  tantrums.  You 
an'  her  '11  be  thicker  'n  tew  hands  in  a  mitten,  t' 
rights." 

"  No,  sir  !  not  never  no  more  !"  Pelatiah  replied  with 
spirit.  "  I  won't  stan'  bein'  fooled  by  nob'ddy,  if  they 
be  harnsome. ' ' 

"  My  i"  said  Sam,  "  she  was  harnsome  as  a  pictur  i" 
and  then,  doubtful  whether  he  was  quite  loyal  to  Huldah 
in  such  admiration  of  another,  qualified  it  by  adding, 
"  but  the's  them  'ats  jist  as  harnsome." 

"  If  she's  harnsome  as  a  pictur,  she's  decaitful  as  a 
snake,  an'  I  won't  stan'  bein'  fooled  !" 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will,  Peltier  !  They'll  fool  a  feller  agin 
an'  agin  till  he  gits  so's  'at  he  likes  bein'  fooled.  She's 
jest  begun  on  you  an'  you  hain't  got  use  to  7t,  but  you 
will,  see  '{  you  don't.  But  come,  le's  go  over  an'  see  the 
rest  on  'em.  They  ben  a-talkin'  an'  surmisin'  baout  you 
all  the  mornin'.  Come,  I'll  git  you  'raound  by  kyow 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  167 

time."  And  Sam,  leading  the  way  to  the  canoe,  shoved 
it  afloat  and  stepped  in. 

Pelatiah  took  his  place  and  was  surprised  at  the  little 
trepidation  he  felt  on  finding  himself  fairly  embarked  on 
the  broad  channel. 

"  Why,  Peltier,  you  keep  the  tarve  o'  the  canew  lots 
better' n  you  did  last  spring,"  Sam  said,  approvingly. 
"  Guess  you  ben  a-practizin',  hain't  ye  ?" 

"  Hain't  ben  in  a  boat  sence,"  Pelatiah  said.  "  Guess 
it's  'cause  I  don't  care  'f  I  be  draounded/' 

"  Oh,  shaw,  Peltier  !  'F  you  was  tu  git  spilt  aout  you'd 
claw  for  shore  an'  holler  like  a  loon.  Folks  'at's  got 
your  ail  is  allus  a-wantin'  tu  die,  but  they  enj'y  dyin'  so 
much  'at  they  hain't  in  no  hurry  tu  hev  the  job  finished 
up.  You'll  wanter  live  forever  when  you  git  t'  eatin'  the 
fish  Antwine's  a-cookin'.  Pike  an'  pick'ril  'at  'ould 
make  a  man's  maouth  water  tu  see,  though  the's  more 
fun  for  me  in  the  ketchin'  'an  in  the  eatin'.  But  I  du  eat 
'em  to  make  a  good  excuse  fur  ketchin'  more." 

Pelatiah  was  warmly  welcomed  by  his  friends,  and  almost 
forgot  his  misery  while  he  listened  to  the  news  they  told 
of  folks  and  affairs  at  Danvis.  The  fish  were  as  good  as 
freshly  caught  and  nicely  cooked  fish  could  be.  When 
they  had  eaten  he  was  taken  along  the  bluff  to  see  some 
thing  of  the  wonders  and  beauty  of  the  lake,  which  im 
pressed  him  even  more  than  they  had  Solon  and  Joseph. 

Antoine,  with  the  air  of  its  chief  proprietor,  expatiated 
on  the  immensity  of  its  waters  and  its  commerce,  but  more 
on  the  numbers,  variety,  and  excellence  of  its  fish. 

"  More  as  t'ree  'honded  tousan  of  it,  prob'ly,  an'  all 
de  kan  dat  ever  was  hear  of  it,  'cep'  whale  an'  dry  cod- 
feesh,  Ah  guess.  Ah' 11  lak  dat  lake,  me,  'cause  he'll  gat 


1 68  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

so  much  feesh,  an'  'cause  one  en*  of  it  steek  raght  in 
Canada  !  Yes,  sah  !  wen  nort'  win'  blow  he'll  breeng 
wave  from  Canada,  where  Ah' 11  was  baun,  w'en  Ah' 11  was 
leetly  boy,  where  Ah' 11  married  my  Ursule  an'  where  Ah' 11 
faght  w'en  Ah'll  growed  up  for  be  hugly  i" 

They  urged  Pelatiah  to  get  a  day  off  during  their  stay 
and  spend  it  with  them,  which  he  promised  to  do,  if  pos 
sible,  even  though  it  cost  him  the  glories  of  the  Fourth  of 
July  at  Vergennes. 

In  good  season  to  get  him  home  by  chore  time,  Sam 
embarked  with  him  in  the  log  canoe  and  paddled  up 
stream  and  into  the  East  Slang.  Such  a  change  had  sum 
mer  wrought  here  that  he  hardly  recognized  the  scene  of 
last  spring's  exploits.  Where  then  the  wide  water  stretched 
from  shore  to  shore,  was  now  a  green,  rushy  level,  divided 
only  by  a  narrow  channel  that  crept  with  many  turns  on 
its  sluggish  way  to  the  creek  as  if  any  other  course  or  none 
at  all  might  as  well  be  taken.  The  scraggy  clumps  of 
button  bushes  were  now  green  islands  in  the  marsh  and 
populous  with  gay  and  noisy  communities  of  redwings. 
The  western  shore  bristling  with  naked  branches  when  he 
last  had  seen  it,  now  was  softly  rounded  with  all  the  lux 
uriant  leafage  June  could  give  it,  and  the  old  camp  was 
just  discernible  embowered  in  leaves  and  shadows.  A 
narrow  boat-path  leading  to  it  and  a  clumsy  log  canoe 
drawn  ashore  there  showed  that  the  landing  was  yet  in  use. 

Pelatiah  was  set  on  shore  farther  up  stream  on  the  east 
bank  at  an  open  place  to  which  he  guided  Sam,  informing 
him  that  it  was  known  as  the  "  John  Clark  place,"  and 
was  a  famous  resort  for  bullpout  fishing  in  May.  Here  it 
was  agreed  that  Sam  should  meet  him  next  morning,  if 
the  hoped-for  day's  leave  of  absence  were  obtained,  and 


SAAf  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  169 

then  he  went  his  way  and  was  soon  heard  "  whaying"  the 
cows  home. 

On  his  return  voyage,  Sam  ran  in  at.  the  landing,  from 
which  he  noticed  that  a  well-trodden  path  led  away  into 
the  woods.  Though  the  place  showed  disuse  and  wore 
the  changes  wrought  by  the  season,  the  greenness  and 
bloom  of  early  summer  where  so  lately  had  been  the  brown 
and  naked  gray  of  early  spring,  there  was  much  to  remind 
him  of  the  pleasant  weeks  he  had  spent  there.  There 
were  whitened  piles  of  muskrat  bones,  picked  clean  by 
many  a  big  and  little  scavenger  of  the  woods,  cast-away 
stretchers  and  tally  sticks,  scales,  and  mummied  heads  of 
fish,  and  Antoine's  old  fish  poles.  There  were  sticks  of 
left-over  firewood  close  by  the  ashes  and  brands  of  the  last 
camp-fire.  The  shanty  kept  its  form,  though  the  slabs 
were  losing  the  fresh  hue  of  newly-rifted  wood.  The  bed 
ding  of  straw  had  grown  musty  and  was  pierced  with  pale 
sprouts  of  such  unthreshed  kernels  of  grain  as  its  latest 
tenantry  of  wood  mice  had  spared. 

While  Sam  sat  smoking  a  meditative  pipe,  his  old  ac 
quaintance,  the  squirrel,  became  aware  of  his  presence  and 
gave  him  a  characteristic  welcome,  snickering  and  jeering 
and  making  such  an  ado  that  his  wife  and  children  came 
to  learn  the  cause  of  it. 

"  Hain't  }e  'shamed  to  be  sassin'  your  betters  afore 
your  young  uns  ?"  Sam  addressed  the  bright-eyed  native, 
"  but  I  d'know  's  I  be  your  better,  an'  Tm  glad  to  see 
ye  fur  all  your  sass." 

Approaching  footsteps  drew  his  attention,  and  presently 
an  old  man  came  shuffling  along  the  path  bearing  on  his 
shoulder  a  long  unwieldy  contrivance  of  basket  work.  He 
was  unmistakably  Canadian,  an  older  but  less  sophisticated 


i;o  •/  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

Antoine,  who  still  wore  the  baggy  homespun  woollen 
trousers,  red  belt,  and  russet  leather  moccasins  of  his 
native  land.  When  Sam  accosted  him,  his  startled  halt 
was  so  sudden  that  he  nearly  dropped  the  long  basket  and 
uttered  a  prolonged  and  very  emphatic  "  Saacre  .'"  but, 
catching  sight  of  him,  seemed  to  consider  the  accident  a 
good  joke. 

"  Ah  !  Ha,  ha,  ha  :  you  mek  scare  M'sieur  !  Bon 
jour,  bon  jour,  M'sieur.  You  poot  good,  aujourd'hui, 
M'sieur:  Parlez-vous  Fran£ais,  M'sieur?  Xon  ?  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  me  no  parlez  Anglais  ver'  eood.  Me  come 
Canada  las*  printemps.  Coupai  le  bois  pour  M'sieur 
Bartlette.  Choppai  de  hwood.  Onsten  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha  : 
Gat  petit  maison  la,  leet'  haouse,"  pointing  backward 
along  the  path  and  then  beating  his  breast  rapidly,  "  Jean 
Bisette,  me.  Me,  ma  femme,  all  'lone,  'lone.  Got 
garcon,  boy,  come  here  long  tarn,  me  can'  fan',  me  sorry, 
oh  !  sorry,  sorry.  You  no  see  it,  prob'ly,  M'sieur?'' 

"Whaty  —  you — cally — you  gassaw's  name?"'  Sam 
asked,  in  a  tone  so  loud  that  he  was  confident  his  French 
must  be  understood. 

"  Hein  ?  Oh!  Oui,  cui,  oui  :  Son  nom  est  An 
toine,  Antoine  Bisette,  You  no  see  it,  M'sieur?"  he 
asked,  anxiou 

"  I'll  bate  a  cooky  'at  aour  Antwine's  his  boy,"  Sam 
said  to  himself,  "  but  'f  I  tol'  him  so  an'  it  turned  aout 
he  wan't  it  'Id  be  awful  disappintin'  tu  the  ol'  ere 
Then  shaking  his  head,  added  aloud,  "No,  do'  know  's 
I  ever  did.  'F  I  du  I'll  let  ye  know.  What  on  airth 
be  you  agoin'  tu  git  in  sech  a  dum'd  basket  as  that  ?" 

Evidently  his  question  was  not  comprehended,  and  he 
hastened  to  make  it  plainer  with  louder  voice  and  simpler 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  171 

phrase,  "  Whaty  for  dat  baskeet?"  which  at  last  the  old 
man  understood  and  explained  that  his  long  basket  was  a 
fish  trap. 

Then  he  pushed   off  in  his  canoe  and  busied  h 
with  setting  it  in  a  gap  at  the  point  made  by  two  thickly 
set  rows  of  stakes  tunning  obliquely  across  stream,  and 
Sam  went  his  way  homeward. 

Night  was  falling.  The  channel  was  strangely  widened 
in  the  uncertain  light  :  its  marshy  borders  far  away  vague 
and  mysterious  among  the  brooding  shadows  of  the  wooded 
shores,  and  the  reflection  of  the  first  eastern  star  danced 
along  his  wake  before  he  reached  the  landing. 


VII. 

CANADIANS   ON   THE   SLANG. 

THE  camp  was  astir  early  next  morning,  so  early  that 
Antoine  was  prancing  about  the  fire  with  a  frying-pan  of 
fish  before  the  morning  breeze  had  swept  the  cobwebs  of 
mist  off  the  marshes,  and  so  early  that,  when  breakfast  was 
announced,  Joseph  Hill  remarked  : 

"  I  never  did  set  no  gret  on  gittin'  up  in  the  night  t' 
eat  a  meal  o'  victuals — that  is,  'f  I've  hed  supper  in  kinder 
decent  season.  Not  to  say  but  what  I  kin  gin 'ally  eat 
hearty — that  is,  tol'able  hearty — but  mornin'  naps,  when 
you  wake  up  jest  'nough  tu  sense  't  you  hain't  got  tu  git 
up,  is  tumble  comf 'table,  an'  I  hate  bein'  cheated  aout 
on  'em.  But  I'll  try  tu  rise  tu  the  'casion, "  and  he 
crawled  into  place  by  the  stone  table. 

"  Some  skeety  talkin'  was  mek  me  gat  up  hairly  dis 
mornin',"  Antoine  said,  in  explanation  of  his  early  ris 
ing. 

"  Skeeters  talkin'  i"  said  Joseph.  *'  I  never  heard  'em 
du  nothin'  but  sing,  an'  dum'd  poor  singin'  at  that ;  I  d' 
know  but  it's  good  'nough  singin',  but  I  don't  like  the 
tune. " 

"  Wai,  seh,  boy,  Ah'll  hear  it  talk  dat  tarn,  an'  Ah 
hear  all  what  he'll  said.  Fust  w'en  dat  leetly  nowse 
woked  me  up,  Ah'll  ant  know  what  he  was  mek  it.  Den 
Ah'll  fan'  aout  he  was  four  skeety  standlin'  on  top  of 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS,  173 

it  me  an'  Sam,  an'  Solem,  an'  Zhozeff.  Dat  one  slandlin' 
on  Sam  say,  '  Dis  man  hide  so  tough  Ah  can'  steek  ma 
beel  in  it.'  De  one  standlin'  on  Zhozeff  say,  '  Ah  can 
push  ma  beel  in  dis  one,  but  Ah  can'  toP  what  Ah'll 
get,  bloods  or  water  or  sometings,  an'  guess  he  ant  know 
hese'f  what  he  got  hees  inside  of  it. '  De  one  bore  Solem 
say,  '  Ah'll  bore  hole  in  dis  mans  an'  de  win'  blowed 
aout  of  it  so  he'll  mos'  knock  ma  head  off  '  Den  de  one 
seet  on  me,  he  say,  '  Ah'll  bore  in  dis  one  very  easy,  an' 
he  gat  more  bloods  as  dey  was  water  in  de  lake,  an'  it  tase 
more  better  as  wines.  Come  here,  boy,  dey  'nough  for  all 
of  it.'  Den  dey'll  come  on  mean'  Ah'll  gat  to  jomp 
ap  pooty  quick  i" 

"It's  lucky  they  waked  you,"  said  Sam,  "  seein'  'at 
I've  got  tu  gwup  betimes  arter  Peltier.  An'  come  tu  think 
on't,  I  forgot  tu  tell  ye,  Antwine,  'at  I  see  a  feller  up  t' 
the  Slang  'at  come  f'm  the  same  place  't  you  did,  I  guess. 
Like  'nough  you  know  him." 

"He  come  f'm  Saint  Cesaire?"  asked  Antoine  with 
interest. 

"  No,  he  didn't  give  that  name,  but  he  come  f'm  Can- 
ady,  erles  he's  strayed  away  f'm  Uncle  Lisha's  Colchester 
P'int.  He  looks  ol'  'nough  for  that.  " 

"  From  Canada  !  You'll  s'pose  Ah  see  evreebodee  in 
Canada  ?  Dat  mos'  bigger  as  Danvit  prob'ly,  an'  you'll 
ant  know  evreebodee  lieve  dar,  ant  it,  hein  ?" 

"  Wai,  no,  not  quite  all  on  'em,  an'  the'  's  some  't  I 
du  know  'at  I  wish't  I  didn't.  But  I  was  a-tellin'  on 
him  'baout  you,"  Sam  continued,  indulging  in  a  white 
lie,  "  an'  he  claimed  'at  he  knowed  a  man  o'  the  name 
o'  Antwine  Bisette.  Like  'nough  he  lied,  I've  knowed 
Canucks  'at  did  git  a  leetle  mite  off  'm  the  act'al  facts 


174  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

sometimes,  but  I  guess  you'd   better  gvvup  'long  wi'  me 
an'  see  him. " 

"  Frenchmans  ant  never  lie,"  Antoine  protested  with  a 
great  flourish  of  gestures,  "  'fore  he'll  be  here  long  'nough 
for  learn  it  of  Yankee,  'cept  once  a  while  mebby  he  ketch 
it  of  Injin.  Injin  lie  lak'  a  dev'." 

;'  Wai,  they're  turrible  easy  tu  larn,  some  on  'em.  " 

"  He'll  gat  good  school  mom  fer  dat  w'en  he'll  gat 
Yankee !" 

"  Wai,  nev'  mind  'baout  that  naovv,  you'd  better  gwup 
an'  see  him,  an'  when  you  git  through  parly  vooin' — 
you'd  orter  heard  me  an'  him  talkin'  French  !  —you  c'n 
come  daown  where  Peltier  did,  an'  some  on  us'll  g' 
over  'n'  git  ye.  Come  on.  " 

"Wai,  Ah  guess  Ah'll  goin',"  Antoine  said,  arising 
after  relighting  his  pipe.  "Ah'll  wan'  talk  French  vvid 
somebody  'fore  Ah'll  fregit  of  it.  An'  it  don't  healt'y  for 
Frenchman's  talk  so  good  Angleesh  Ah  do,  all  de  tarn." 

They  were  well  on  their  way  before  the  touch  of  the 
rising  sun  began  to  transmute  their  broad  path  of  silver 
into  one  of  gold,  and  it  was  just  gilding  the  roots  of  the 
old  hemlocks  and  patches  of  the  forest  floor  when  the 
canoe  crushed  through  the  rushes  to  the  old  camp  landing. 
Antoine  had  no  sentimentality  to  expend  on  the  place  which 
had  given  him  all  he  could  ever  expect  from  it,  and  was  at 
once  ready  to  follow  Sam. 

They  had  not  gone  far  along  the  path  when  the  sunlight 
of  a  little  clearing  shone  before  them,  and  then  they  saw  a 
small  log-house  with  whitewashed  sides  and  notched 
shingles  along  its  eaves.  Coming  nearer,  they  saw  an  old 
woman  at  the  door  wearing  a  white  cap  and  short  white 
gown  which  Sam  wondered  at,  whether  meant  for  day  or 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  175 

night  attire,  and  then  an  old  man,  on  all  fours,  weeding 
an  onion  bed  close  beside  the  house.  When  presently  he 
sat  upright  to  fire  \vith  flint  and  steel  a  bit  of  punk  to  light 
his  pipe,  his  leathern  old  visage  became  plainly  visible. 

"  There,  du  ye  know  him,  Antwine  ?"  Sam  asked,  in  a 
low  tone. 

The  younger  Canadian's  face,  which  had  till  now 
shown  only  amused  curiosity,  suddenly  flashed  into  an 
expression  of  recognition  and  strong  emotion. 

"Ah,  mon  Dieu  !"  he  cried  huskily,  "  c'est  mon 
poupa  et  ma  mouman  !"  and  he  ran  forward  to  the  old 
people. 

"  Huggin'  an'  kissin'  on  'em  julluk  any  little  boy, " 
said  Sam  with  a  quaver  in  his  voice,  and  with  tender 
memories  of  his  own  mother  who  had  been  asleep  under 
the  graveyard  sumachs  since  he  was  a  child,  he  retired  be 
fore  the  rejoicing  trio  came  fairly  to  their  speech.  As  he 
went  his  way  back  to  the  boat,  the  three  voices  broke  forth 
in  such  a  confusion  of  incessant  gabble  that  he  could  not 
help  laughing  and  remarking,  "  By  the  gre't  horn  spoon  ! 
A  flock  o'  blackbirds,  no,  nor  all  the  noises  in  the  ma'sh 
put  together,  hain't  a-primin'." 

He  was  glad  to  find  Pelatiah  waiting  at  the  "John  Clark 
place,"  his  unhappiness  somewhat  lessened  by  the  pros- 
pect  of  a  day's  outing.  Sam  had  had  the  forethought  to 
bring  trolling  tackle  along,  and  as  they  fared  slowly  down 
stream  Pelatiah  trailed  the  lure  along  the  border  of  lily 
pads  and  listened  to  the  story  of  the  discovery  of  Antoine's 
parents,  and  thought  it  almost  as  wonderful  as  a  story  in 
a  book. 

He  struck  a  large  pickerel,  and  had  the  luck,  in  spite  of 
his  flurried  awkwardness,  to  get  it  safely  into  the  dugout, 


1 76  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

and  rejoiced  exceedingly  in  its  capture  and  in  Sam's  praise 
of  his  skill,  as  well  as  in  anticipation  of  the  display  of  such 
a  trophy  on  his  return  to  Friend  Baitlett's.  He  would 
like,  he  thought,  to  see  that  little  dandy  spark  of  Lowizy's 
struggling  with  such  a  fish,  almost  as  big  as  he,  and  as 
likely  to  haul  him  overboard  as  to  be  hauled  inboard. 
Was  it  possible  that  Lowizy  might  feel  a  sympathetic  pride 
in  his  achievement  ?  He  had  fancied  that  his  heart  was 
steeled  against  her  blandishments,  some  of  which  had 
been  vainly  expended  on  him  last  evening,  succeeded  by 
an  air  of  injured  innocence  that  proved  as  ineffectual.  But 
now  he  began  to  feel  a  forgiving  softness  and  some  twinges 
of  remorse.  He  began  to  frame  excuses  for  her  conduct, 
and  accused  himself  of  cruelty  in  answering  her  in  mon 
osyllables,  and  for  not  having  filled  the  wash-boiler  for  her 
before  he  came  away.  Sam  dispelled  this  silent  mood  by 
proposing  plans  for  the  spending  of  the  day.  "  I  ben 
kinder  wantin'  tu  go  aout  tu  Gardin'  Islan'  ever  sen  we 
ben  here,"  he  said  as  he  sent  the  canoe  on  her  way  with 
slow  strokes  of  the  paddle,  never  changed  from  side  to 
side,  but  steadily  delivered  on  one  side  without  a  percep 
tible  deviation  of  the  bow  from  its  direct  course. 

"  The  bay's  as  still  as  a  mill-pawnd  tu-day,  an'  s'posin' 
you  'n'  me  take  a  v'yage  aout  there  in  the  scaow  ?  We 
c'n  git  back  afore  noon  an'  then  fish  'long  wi'  Sole  an' 
Joe  till  it's  time  for  you  tu  go  hum." 

The  prospect  of  voyaging  more  than  half  a  mile  out  into 
the  immensity  of  the  lake  was  rather  appalling  to  Pelatiah, 
but  his  faith  in  Sam  was  unbounded,  and  the  prospect  of 
setting  foot  on  a  real  solid  island  was  as  alluring  as  an 
adventure  of  discovery,  and  so  after  a  little  deliberation  ho 
fell  in  with  the  proposal. 


SAM  LOVEV  s  CAMPS.  177 

Arriving  at  camp,  the  plan  was  broached  to  Solon  and 
Joseph,  who  at  once  declared  that  they  had  no  inclination 
for  so  perilous  a  voyage. 

"It's  still  'nough  naow, "  said  Joseph  after  a  careful 
inspection  of  the  cloudless  sky,  "  but  the's  time  'nough 
for  it  tu  up  an'  blow  like  all  git  aout  'fore  we  c'ld  git  aout 
there  and  back  agin,  an'  the's  no  knowin'  what  dum'd 
caper  that  pleggid  ol'  she-boat  'Id  take  a  notion  tu  cut  up 
if  the  win'  did  blow.  I  b'lieve  I'd  druther  look  at  the  lake 
f'm  one  side  'an  f'm  the  middle.  You  c'n  see  more  on't 
tu  oncte  that  way,  an'  I  b'lieve  that'll  sati'fy  me  tol'able 
well,  though  'f  I  felt  jullukgoin'  I  p'sume  to  say  I'd  go." 

Solon  advised  keeping  to  the  shore  or  near  it,  and  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  the  contemplated  visit  to  the  island 
was  "an  attemptin' of  improvidence."  They  were  told 
of  the  meeting  of  Antoine  and  his  parents,  and  Solon  de 
clared  it  was  like  the  "return  of  the  prodigy  son,  only 
proberbly  the'  wa'n't  no  calf  infatuated  for  the  o  casion." 

"  This  was  more  as't  orter  ben  'cordin'  tu  my  idee," 
said  Joseph,  "  a  sorter  meetin'  half  way,  an'  nob'dy 
a  gittin'  tuckered  a  trav'lin'  as  that  ere  Scriptur'  young 
man  did. " 

While  Pelatiah  tethered  his  precious  pickerel  safely  in 
the  shallow  water,  Sam  got  a  lunch  of  bread  and  pork, 
some  poles,  lines,  and  bait  from  camp,  and  the  two  set 
forth  in  the  scow.  Sam  took  the  oars,  a  rough  pair  of 
Antoine's  fashioning,  which  Joseph  Hill  said  *'  it  wouldn't 
be  no  sin  tu  warship,  for  they  wa'n't  like  nothin'  in 
heaven  or  airth,  erless  the'  was  some  more  somewhere  'at 
Antoine  hed  made,"  and  Pelatiah  took  his  first  lesson  in 
steering  with  the  paddle. 

"  Con-faound  it  !"  he  cried,  when  in  spite  of  his  best  en- 


178  SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

deavors  the  boat  had  veered  to  half  the  points  of  the  com 
pass,  **  I  can't  make  the  ol  boat  p'int  nowheres  !  I  don't 
b'lieve  it's  half  broke  !" 

"Why,  Peltier,"  Sam  said,  amused,  though  half-im 
patient  with  his  awkwardness,  4<  you  haint  no  cause  tu  say 
that,  for  you  make  it  p'int  most  every wheres.  " 

"  I  b'lieve,"  Pelatiah  remarked,  "  'at  they  call  it  steer- 
in'  'cause  the  con-faounded  thing  acts  so  much  like  steers 
'at  hain't  broke.  It  do'  know  gee  f'm  haw." 

"Uncle  Tyler,  the  ol'  feller  'at  fetched  Sole  an'  Joe 
an'  to'ther  duds  daown  in  his  scaow,  says  't  a  boat  don't 
know  gee  an'  haw,  but  it  does  starb'd  and  larb'd.  My  ! 
'f  you'd  a-heard  him  hollerin'  at  'em  you'ld  a-thought  't 
was  Cap'n  Peck  a-trainin'  his  floodwood  comp'ny. " 

Pelatiah  improved  rapidly  under  Sam's  patient  instruc 
tion,  and  was  soon  able  to  keep  the  scow  quite  closely 
headed  for  the  island,  whose  rocky  shore,  green  trees,  and 
blossomy  shrubs  steadily  loomed  larger,  nearer  and  more 
distinct. 

While  they  were  on  the  shallows,  frequent  touches  of  the 
paddle  on  the  sandy  bottom,  assurances  that  connection 
with  the  solid  earth  was  not  yet  severed,  had  given  Pelatiah 
a  feeling  of  safety.  But  now  that  the  paddle  could  not 
touch  the  bottom,  the  clams  and  their  slowly  traced  tracks 
faded  out  of  sight  in  the  deeper  water,  the  ripples  of  sun 
shine  no  longer  crinkled  the  sands  with  gold,  and  there 
was  nothing  but  water  to  be  seen  beneath  the  boat  save 
where  some  great  rock  dimly  showed  in  the  green  depths, 
like  an  ugly  monster  Iving  in  wait  for  a  victim,  he  wished 
himself  on  land,  and  was  glad  enough  when  the  scow 
grated  on  the  rocky  slant  of  the  island's  southern  shore. 
He  could  hardly  tell  whether  such  isolation  was  quite 


SAM  LOVEV  S   CAMPS.  179 

pleasant,  but  it  was  a  new  and  strange  sensation  to  have 
this  little  patch  of  rock  and  scant  soil  all  to  himself  and 
Sam,  but  for  its  few  inhabitants,  the  birds  and  reptiles, 
mice  and  perhaps  a  family  of  minks,  for  they  saw  one 
gliding  along  the  shore,  as  lithe  and  silent  as  a  snake. 

They  made  the  round  of  all  its  borders,  the  sheer  wall 
of  the  north  shore,  where  storm-bent  cedars  and  birches 
clung  along  the  brink,  and  the  long  incline  of  rock  on 
the  south  shore,  where  thickets  of  flowering  shrubs  made 
a  breastwork  of  bloom  just  behind  the  line  of  driftwood 
and  pebbles  thrown  up  by  the  high  water  of  spring.  They 
explored  the  interior,  where  a  goodly  growth  of  almost  all 
the  deciduous  trees  of  the  region  was  unaccountably 
nourished  in  the  thin  red  soil.  In  one  place  they  noticed 
that  a  pit  deep  enough  for  a  grave  had  recently  been  dug, 
but  for  what  purpose  they  could  not  imagine.  They 
carved  their  names  and  the  date  of  their  visit  on  the  largest 
white  birch  in  characters  which  some  later  comer  might 
possibly  decipher.  Then  they  fished  off  the  eastern  and 
western  points  of  the  island,  catching  perch  whose  armor 
of  green  and  gold  was  darker  and  brighter  than  those  of 
their  brethren  of  the  creek. 

Once  when  Pelatiah  cast  his  bait  into  a  wide  fissure  of 
the  submerged  rocks  it  was  seized  in  a  sudden  onset  that 
reminded  him  of  the  biting  of  his  familiars,  the  trout.  But 
this  was  a  lustier  fellow  than  any  denizen  of  Danvis' 
brooks,  one  that  would  not  be  jerked  out  overhead  at  the 
first  stroke,  but  clung  to  the  water  tenaciously  till,  the 
line's  length  away,  he  broke  the  surface  and  sprang  thrice 
his  length  above  it,  then  regained  his  watery  grasp  almost 
as  soon  as  the  parted  wavelets  closed  above  his  bristling 
dorsal  fin.  It  was  no  exercise  of  skill,  but  only  stout 


i8o  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

tackle  and  a  strong  pull  that  overcame  him,  yet  Pelatiah 
was  none  the  less  exultant  when  at  last  he  hauled  his  prize 
out  on  to  the  rocks  and  pounced  sprawling  upon  him,  as 
Sam  said,  "  Julluk  a  boy  ketchin'  a  frog.  " 

"This  must  be  a  'Swago,  as  they  call  'em,"  he  said 
when  its  captor  ventured  to  quit  hovering  over  the  goodly 
three-pound  bass,  and  gave  him  a  chance  to  examine  it. 
"Seems  's  'ough  that  feller  speared  one  julluk  this  that 
night  las'  spring,  an'  him  an'  Time  called  it  a  'Swago. 
They  say  they're  the  beaters  of  all  the  fish  in  these  waters, 
on  the  hook  or  on  the  table,  an'  by  the  way  this  one 
skived  an'  flurrupped  'raound  I  jedge  they've  got  the  fust 
on't  right.  'Cordin'  tu  their  tell,  Lewis  Creek's  chuck 
full  on  'em,  an'  I  wanter  hev  a  slap  at  'em  one  day  'fore 
we  g'  hum. " 

After  awhile,  when  both  had  tired  of  trying  to  catch 
another  bass,  the  pulsing  rumble  of  a  steamer's  paddles 
was  heard,  and  they  hurried  to  the  west  point  to  see  her 
pass.  Compared  with  the  little  steamboat  he  had  seen  at 
Vergennes  at  the  time  of  Uncle  'Lisha's  departure,  and 
the  only  one  he  had  seen  till  now,  this  was  a  leviathan. 
Pelatiah  thought  he  could  never  tire  of  watching  her  ma 
jestic  progress  as,  with  flags  and  pennons  flaunting  bravely 
in  the  sunlight,  she  spurned  the  vexed  waters  behind  her 
in  a  long  line  of  foam.  Gayest  and  most  conspicuous  of 
her  bunting  shone  the  stars  and  stripes,  and  it  made  his 
heart  swell  with  pride  to  see  the  flag  of  his  country  floating 
above  so  grand  and  beautiful  a  craft,  and  he  was  proudly 
thankful  to  be  even  the  humblest  of  Yankees. 

So  intently  did  he  and  his  companion  regard  the  steamer 
that  it  was  not  till  she  had  passed  out  of  sight  and  the 
waves  of  her  wake  began  to  beat  the  rocks  at  their  feet 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  181 

with  sullen  surges  that  they  noticed  what  a  change  had 
come  upon  the  sky,  how  silvery  domes  of  thunder  heads 
had  reared  themselves  above  the  mountains,  shadowing 
some  in  a  blue  black  as  sombre  as  the  bases  of  the  great 
cloud  temples  had  become,  till  mountain  and  cloud  were 
an  undistinguishable,  looming  mass  of  blackness.  The 
south  wind  which  had  risen  from  a  scarcely  perceptible 
waft  of  soft  air  to  a  breeze  that  ruffled  the  lake  and  briskly 
stirred  the  leaves  was  now  hushed,  and  no  sound  was 
heard  but  the  slow  wash  of  the  steamer's  wake  and  some 
voices  of  shore  life,  faint,  occasional,  and  far  away.  It  was 
as  if  nature  was  holding  her  breath  in  expectation  of  some 
outburst  of  her  elements,  presently  voiced  by  a  threatening 
growl  of  distant  thunder,  rolling  along  the  western  horizon. 

"Wai,  naovv, "  said  Sam  after  a  brief  survey  of  the 
storm  signs,  "  I  guess  we'd  better  be  pickin'  up  an' 
pullin'  foot  for  camp  ;  I  d'  know  but  we'll  ketch  it  as 
'tis." 

Gathering  their  tackle  and  fish,  they  hastened  to  where 
they  had  landed,  but  the  boat  was  not  there.  She  had 
only  been  fastened  by  grounding  her  bow  on  a  rock,  and 
the  wash  of  the  steamer  had  set  her  adrift.  Standing  at 
the  water's  edge,  with  craned  necks,  they  speechlessly 
watched  her  drifting  away,  her  oar  handles  bobbing  up 
and  down  and  creaking  and  bumping  with  the  swells  as 
if  plied  by  some  invisible  mischievous  water  sprite. 

"By  the  gre't  horn  spoon!  if  we  hain't  in  a  boat 
naow, "  Sam  said,  as  he  exhaled  his  long- held  breath. 

"  I  wish  tu  Lord  o'  massy  we  was  in  a  boat,"  Pelatiah 
said  dolefully,  "  erless  we  never'd  a-ben  anigh  one.  I 
won't  never  git  inter  one  o'  the  con-faounded  things  agin, 
I  snum  !" 


182  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

''You'll  hafter  'f  you  ever  git  away  f'm  here,  erless 
you  wait  till  the  lake  freezes." 

"  I  don't  s'pose  we  will  git  away  for  a  good  spell  'f  we 
ever  du  'fore  we  starve  tu  death  !  Tew  reg'lar  Robi'son 
Crusoes  we  be,  an'  not  a  dum'd  goat  on  this  pleggid  islan'! 
Oh,  dear  me  suz  !"  Pelatiah  wailed  as  a  new  and  greater 
anxiety  fell  upon  him.  "  What  be  I  goin'  tu  du  'baout 
my  chores  ?  The'  won't  be  nob'dy  tu  help  milk,  an'  Mr. 
Bartlett  an'  the  hull  toot  on  'em  '11  think  I'm  the  meanest, 
lyin'  skunk  in  all  creation." 

"  Wai, "  said  Sam,  "  we  can't  help  it  naow  and  hev  tu 
make  the  best  on't.  Joe  and  Sole  won't  dast  tu  come 
arter  us,  but  when  Antwine  gits  through  parly  vooin'  with 
his  ol'  folks,  'f  he  ever  does,  he  will.  We  c'n  eat  fish 
an'  play  't  we  own  the  islan'  till  someb'dy  comes.  Le's 
go  an'  see  haow  it  gits  'long  stormin',"  and  he  led  the 
way  to  the  west  point. 


VIII. 

THE   TREASURE-DIGGERS. 

FROM  the  dark  clouds  a  veil  of  rain  had  fallen,  com 
pletely  hiding  the  distant  mountains  and  the  farthest 
western  shore,  while  it  had  begun  to  flatten  the  nearer 
crags  of  Split  Rock  into  a  sheer  wall  whose  even  tint  of 
dull  gray  was  broken  only  by  the  white  shaft  of  the  light 
house  and  the  dull  flash  of  the  waves  which  the  coming 
wind  hurled  against  the  point  of  the  rugged  promontory. 
Beyond  the  advancing  veil,  whitecaps  gleamed  out  of  the 
obscurity,  and  out  of  it  scudded  a  sloop  with  close-reefed 
sails  and  anchored  in  the  shelter  of  Thompson's  Point. 

When  the  frequent  flashes  of  lightning  quivered  down 
from  the  sky,  it  was  as  if  the  veil  was  torn  with  jagged 
rents  that  for  an  instant  revealed  a  conflagration  of  the 
universe.  Incessant  peals  of  thunder  rolled  in  repeated 
bursts  and  muttering  growls,  swelling,  and  dying  in 
echoes  from  cloud,  mountain,  and  headland,  with  a  con 
tinuous  undertone  of  the  roar  of  wind  and  waves  on  dis 
tant  woods  and  rock-bound  shores.  The  wind,  yet  unfelt 
by  the  castaways,  sent  the  hurrying  clouds  in  a  wide,  ma 
jestic  sweep  across  the  sky  till  all  the  sunlit  blue  was  blot 
ted  out  and  the  landscape  was  overspread  with  a  gloom 
more  awful  than  the  darkness  of  night,  flashing  into  in 
stants  of  distinctness  when  wind-swept  waves,  and  clouds, 
and  trees,  for  a  pulse  beat,  stood  still  in  the  white  fire  of 


1 84  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

the  lightning.  Then  cat's-paws  ruffled  the  black,  still 
waters  near  them,  a  brief  patter  of  big  drops  fell  like  leaden 
plummets  on  water,  rocks,  and  leaves,  and  then  all  at  once 
the  lake  seethed  at  their  feet,  the  lithe  branches  of  the 
birches  streamed  to  leeward  of  their  bending  trunks,  and 
the  sturdy  cedars  tossed  in  brief  resistance  as  the  long- 
driven  slant  of  the  storm  burst  upon  them. 

Sam  and  Pelatiah  were  drenched  before  they  could  reach 
the  partial  shelter  of  the  nearest  clump  of  cedars,  which 
only  broke  the  force  of  the  wind,  while  every  branch  and 
twig  seemed  to  become  a  conduit  to  pour,  dribble,  and 
drip  down  their  backs  and  upon  their  knees,  every  raindrop 
the  tree  caught. 

"  I  don't  s'pose  it's  nothin'  tu  what  they  hed  time  o' 
the  flood, ' '  said  Sam,  wiping  his  wet  face  with  a  wetter 
coat-sleeve,  "but  I  du  feel  more'n  I  ever  did  afore  for 
the  poor  creeturs  'at  was  aouten  the  ark. " 

"I  guess  I've  got  tu  the  hayth  o'  wetness,"  Pelatiah 
said,  as  with  his  chin  on  his  knee  he  regarded  the  water 
overflowing  from  the  tops  of  his  boots,  into  which  his 
trousers  were  lucked,  **  fer  my  boots  is  a-runnin'  over. 
Oh,  con-faound  it,  I  'd  ruther  milk  all  aour  caows  in  the  rain 
'an  tu  be  squattin'  here,  like  a  draownded  goslin',  jes'  fer 
fun.  Dum  sech  fun  !" 

With  such  dolorous  discourse  and  with  watching  the 
storm  they  whiled  away  a  half  hour  of  discomfort. 
Through  the  loop-holes  of  their  poor  shelter  they  could 
see  nothing  but  the  blown  and  pelted  trees  and  rocky 
bounds  of  their  island,  and  a  little  beyond  these  the  seeth 
ing,  angry  sweep  of  the  waves,  whose  white  crests  and 
black  furrows  faded  into  the  gray  downpour  and  fleeting 
drift  of  the  rain,  and  it  was  as  if  this  patch  of  rocks  and 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  185 

earth  was  all  that  was  left  to  them  of  the  stable  world 
whose  blue  mountains,  green  woods,  and  fields  and  sunlit 
waters  an  hour  ago  had  shone  about  them.  Then  the 
fury  of  the  wind  abated  somewhat,  the  rain  hissed  less 
angrily  upon  the  hurrying  waves,  the  torn  clots  of  black 
clouds  swept  more  slowly  across  the  sky,  grew  more  infre 
quent,  then  had  all  passed  by  ;  the  nearest  headland  was 
dimly  revealed,  vaguely  defined  shores  reappeared  and 
again  clasped  the  bay,  a  distant  field  was  lighted  by  a 
gleam  of  sunshine  and  shone  through  the  vapor  in  golden 
green,  the  leaden  hue  of  the  waves  turned  to  living  blue 
and  green,  and  as  the  last  growl  of  the  retreating  storm 
was  muttered  among  the  eastern  mountains,  the  sunlight 
came  sweeping  over  all  the  landscape. 

Sam  and  his  companion  crept  from  under  their  roof  of 
dripping  branches  and  stretched  their  cramped  limbs  in 
the  genial  warmth  of  the  rekindled  sunlight,  while  they 
scanned  the  lake  in  hope  of  seeing  some  friendly  craft  that 
might  come  to  their  rescue.  But  no  vessel  of  any  sort  was 
in  sight,  save  the  sloop  that  had  taken  shelter  inside 
Thompson's  Point,  and  which,  if  not  beyond  their  hail, 
was  unmindful  of  it,  for  it  now  spread  its  white  wings  to 
the  fresh  northern  breeze  and  sailed  away  to  the  southward. 

Her  captain  and  crew  they  had  never  had  speech  with 
nor  seen,  but  at  such  a  distance  that  they  were  unrecog 
nizable  specks,  presumably  men,  who  might  be  white  or 
black,  brother  Yankees,  Yorkers,  or  Canadians,  for  all 
they  could  make  out  concerning  them,  but  they,  too,  had 
suffered  the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  as  the  bellying  sails 
bore  them  away,  passing  out  of  sight  behind  the  cliffs,  a 
heavier  sense  of  loneliness  fell  upon  Sam  and  Pelatiah. 

Sam    comforted    himself   with   a    pipe,   a  solace  which 


1 86  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

was  denied  Pelatiah,  as  was  also  the  rumination  of  his  cud, 
for  which  he  vainly  searched  his  pockets,  remembering  at 
last  that  he  had  given  his  only  remaining  piece  of  gum  to 
the  faithless  Louisa.  Far  better,  he  thought,  than  if  he 
had  it,  if  she  was  now  chewing  it  and  was  reminded  by  it 
of  him.  Would  she  feel  any  anxiety  concerning  him  if 
he  did  not  return  that  night,  as  it  now  seemed  probable  he 
could  not,  and  be  sorry  that  she  had  been  unkind  ?  Or 
would  she  and  all  of  them  think  that  he  was  careless  of 
his  word  or  had  deliberately  broken  it  ?  This  seemed  the 
likelier  chance,  and  again  he  groaned  aloud,  "Oh,  con- 
faound  sech  fun  !" 

Standing  on  the  south  shore  and  looking  toward  the 
mouth  of  Little  Otter,  they  saw  two  figures  on  the  beach 
to  the  westward  of  it  which  they  made  out  to  be  Solon  and 
Joseph.  They  were  moving  excitedly  about  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  an  object  which  Sam  presently  guessed  to  be 
the  scow,  stranded  on  the  shallows.  The  favoring  wind 
bore  Sam's  hail  to  them,  and  though  their  answer  could 
not  be  heard,  they  could  be  seen  frantically  swinging  their 
hats,  delighted  at  the  assurance  of  the  safety  of  their 
friends,  and  Sam  laughed  to  think  of  what  he  could  not 
quite  see,  how  Joseph  was  prancing  about  like  an  upreared 
mud  turtle,  and  of  the  big  words  he  knew  Solon  must  be 
uttering. 

Then  they  were  seen  to  wade  out  to  the  scow,  bail  out 
the  water  it  had  shipped,  board  it,  shove  it  into  deeper 
water,  and  then,  with  a  heroic  endeavor  to  practise  the  les 
sons  of  Uncle  Tyler,  attempt  to  row  to  the  island.  It 
soon  became  evident  that  they  might  as  well  have  under 
taken  so  to  voyage  to  the  moon,  for  they  clawed  the  air 
more  than  the  water  with  the  oars,  making  no  progress, 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  187 

but  in  inegular  circles,  which,  if  they  should  become  wide 
enough,  were  as  likely  to  take  them  out  into  the  broad 
lake  as  to  the  island. 

Sam  became  more  alarmed  for  them  than  for  himself 
arid  Pelatiah,  and  roared  to  them  to  get  back  to  the  shore 
if  they  could.  When  they  comprehended  his  instructions 
they  were  fortunately  in  shoal  water,  and  more  effectually 
using  the  oars  as  setting  poles,  they  happily  succeeded  in 
beaching  the  scow  on  the  sands  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff. 
Then  Sam  shouted  to  them  in  well-separated  words,  slowly 
delivered  between  his  hollowed  hands  : 

"When — An — twine — gits — back  (if  he  ever  does  an' 
hain't  parlyvooed  hisself  to  death,"  taking  his  hands  down 
and  also  taking  breath  as  he  addressed  this  aside  to  Pela 
tiah),  '*  hev— him — come—over— arter — us — with — the — 
scaow  !  Du — you — hear?" 

When  they  had  taken  time  to  ponder  the  message,  Sam 
caught  their  faint  "yes"  makingits  way  against  the  buffets 
of  the  wind. 

"  Naow,  Peltier,"  he  said,  "  le's  dress  aour parch — you 
wanter  save  that  'Swago — right  here  where  the  sun  '11  dry 
us,  an'  make  us  a  fire  an'  hev  us  a  hot  dinner.  The 
punk  in  my  wa'scut  pocket's  dry's  bone  spite  o'  all  this 
'ere  flood,  'n  we  c'n  git  a  fire  aout  o'  suthin,  I  guess.' ' 

In  the  lee  of  the  blooming  thicket  they  set  about  scaling 
their  fish.  So  absorbed  in  their  occupation  or  with  far 
away  thoughts  they  took  no  note  of  the  unobtrusive  sounds 
about  them,  the  wash  of  the  subsiding  waves,  the  rustle  of 
the  leaves,  and  the  songs  of  the  vireos  among  them.  Once 
they  thought  they  heard  mixed  with  these  the  thump  of 
oars,  but  listening  they  heard  no  more. 

Presently  they  were  startled  by  the  tramp  of  stumbling, 


1 88  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

heavy  feet,  the  noise  of  spades  and  a  crowbar  thrown 
down,  and  then  as  one  pair  of  feet  came  to  a  halt  quite 
near  them,  a  loud  nasal  voice  broke  out  : 

"  Oh,  look  a-here  !  John-ah,  Job-ah,  here's  seas  an' 
oceans  an'  thaousan's  o'  Seneky  snake  rhut,  I  vaow  !" 

A  voice  that  greatly  resembled  that  of  the  first  speaker, 
though  it  sounded  more  familiar  to  Pelatiah,  answered 
impatiently  : 

"  Oh,  dum  your  Seneky  snake  rhut- ah  !  Wegotsuthin' 
'at's  more  'caount  'an  or'nary  rhuts  tu  tend  tu  ;  what  the 
Bible  calls  the  rhut  of  all  evil  is  what  we're  arter-ah.  Come 
here  an"  le's  git  tu  diggin'  right  stret  off,  'fore  some  darn 
fool  comes  shoolin'  raound.  I  ruther  guess,  Jethro,  'at 
you  an'  Job,  Junior,  hed  better  dig,  an'  I'll  keep  watch, 
bein'  'at  I'm  the  sharpest  sightedest  an'  t'  the  spine  o' 
my  back's  kinder  lame-ah." 

Peeping  under  the  bushes,  Sam  and  Pelatiah  saw,  stand 
ing  quite  near  them,  a  tall,  awkward  lout,  who  with  a  face 
expressive  of  green  conceit  and  low  cunning  regarded  the 
patch  of  medicinal  herbs  that  spread  their  broad  leaves 
before  him,  and  just  beyond  him,  above  the  undergrowth, 
the  heads  and  shoulders  of  two  others  of  the  same  unfin 
ished  strong  build,  the  same  expression  of  conceit  and 
cunning,  with  a  little  drying  of  the  greenness  that  more 
years  had  given,  unmistakably  elder  brothers  of  the  one 
who  had  spoken  first. 

"  I  hain't  a-goin'  tu  dig  a  dum'd  inch-ah, "  said  this 
one,  still  gloating  over  his  discovery  of  herbs,  an  aromatic 
root  of  which  he  had  pulled  and  was  crunching  with  swin 
ish  voracity,  "  erless  I'm  a-goin'  tu  hev  a  third  o'  all  the 
money  we  git  ;  so  there.  " 

"  Naow,  con-faound  it  all,  Jethro-ah, "   said   the  oldest 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  189 

brother,  coming  nearer  and  halting,  while  the  swing  of 
his  arms  gradually  abated  like  the  subsiding  beats  of  a 
pendulum,  "  what's  the  use  o'  your  bein'  a  nat'ral-born 
fool,  if  you  know  anything?  Who  tol'  us  where  we  was 
a  goin'  tu  find  all  the  money  'at  Bennydick  Arnil  hid 
here,  when  he  was  a-retreatin'-ah  ?  VVa'n't  it  Sairy, 
Sleepin'  Sairy,  when  Job  Junior  hed  gin  her  the  in- 
flewernce-ah  ?" 

Evidently  Jethro  could  not  gainsay  this,  and  maintained 
a  sullen  silence.  "Wai,  then,"  his  brother  continued, 
"  't  wouldn't  be  no  more  'n  fair  fer  her  tu  hev  half  on't, 
for  haow'ld  we  ever  ha'  faound  it  'f  't  hedn't  been  for 
her-ah  ?  Say,  you  darned  off  ox-ah  !" 

"  Wai,  we  hain't  faound  it,  hev  we-ah  ?  We've  got  tu 
dig  for  't,  hain't  we-ah?"  Jethro  demanded  with  a  sar 
castic  grin. 

"  Gol  dum  ye  !"  cried  John,  "  we  would  ha'  hed  it  'f 
you'd  hel'  your  plegged  gab-ah.  A-speakin'  jest  's  the 
crowbar  hit  the  chist,  an'  then  of  course  it  moved,  jest  's 
any  tarnal  fool  might  ha'  knowed  it  would-ah.  But  we're 
a-goin'  tu  git  it  naow  'f  you  c'n  keep  yer  hed  shet  a  spell, 
an'  all  't  we  ast  is  a  quarter  on  't  for  Sairy,  jest  a  ekal 
divided  quarter,  'n'  one  fur  me  'n'  one  fur  you,  'n  one 
fur  Job  Junior- ah.  An'  that's  more  'n  fair.  Neow, 
hain't  it,  Job-ah  ?" 

"  Wai,"  answered  Job,  "  I  'low  't  is — that  is  to  say  fur 
you,  bein'  'at  Sairy  ?s  your  womern,  which  it  jest  in  fac' 
gives  you  half — a  hull  half- ah  !  I  wanter  ast,  naow,  who 
give  Sairy  the  mess  miricle  inflewernce-ah  ?  'Twan't 
you,  not  by  a  jug  lull." 

"  Jest  so,"  said  Jethro. 

"Ah,  wal-ah,  strickly  speakin',  it  wa'n't  exakly  me," 


190  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

the  eldest  reluctantly  admitted,  "  but  I  furnished  the 
womern,  which  she  is  the  mess  miricle  subjeck." 

"I'm  goin'  tu  hev  a  third  on't,"  Jethro  emphatically 
reasserted,  "  erless  I'll  go  an'  tell  Annernius,  an'  break  up 
the  trade  for  the  islan',  which  I  can,  bein'  'at  the'  hain't 
no  writin'  's  drawed  yit.  So  there-ah." 

This  threat  seemed  to  strike  dumb  him  whom  they  called 
John,  but  after  swelling  and  choking  with  rage  for  a  little, 
speech  returned. 

"  Job  an'  me  hed  ort  tu  kill  ye  an'  heave  ye  int'  the 
lake,  so  we  hed-ah  !"  but  Job  did  not  assent  to  this  simple 
method  of  settling  Jethro's  claim,  and  John  went  on  some 
what  less  angrily.  "  Wai,  condum  ye,  take  a  third,  take 
it,  you  tarnal  hawg,  an'  be  dum'd,  'f  you  wanter  take  the 
bread  aouten  your  brother's  maouth  'at's  allers  bin  your 
guardeen  an'  the  mainstay  o'  the  fam'ly  sence  the  ol'  man 
yer  father,  Job  Senior,  died  !  Take  it,  but  go  to  diggin' 
'fore  some  fool  comes  gawpin'  raound.  An'  keep  yer 
head  shet  when  ye  git  tu  diggin'  !" 

Sam  now  whispered  to  Pelatiah  that  if  they  were  to  get 
these  men  to  help  them  to  return  to  the  mainland  it  would 
be  best  to  enter  upon  negotiations  at  once,  before  the 
treasure  seeking  was  begun,  and  of  which  they  must  pre 
tend  complete  ignorance. 

Crouching  low,  they  stole  silently  away  to  some  little 
distance  and  then  noisily  made  their  way  toward  the 
money-diggers,  who  were  now  gathered  about  the  pit,  which 
Sam  and  Pelatiah  had  noticed  in  their  survey  of  the  island. 

"  Haow  are  ye?  I'm  tumble  glad  to  see  ye  !"  Sam 
said  heartily. 

"  Where  in  thunder  an'  chain  lightnin'  did  you  come 
from-ah  ?"  demanded  the  eldest  of  the  brothers,  surprised, 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  191 

shamefaced,  yet  half  defiant.  "What  ye  duin'  here? 
Clear  aout  !  This  is  aour  islan'  !  we  jest  bought  it,  an' 
we  hain't  a  goin'  tu  'low  anybody  on  it  stealin'  cedar  pos's 
an'  raisin'  Cain-ah.  We'll  sue  'em  fur  trespuss — }es,  sir, 
we  will,  an'  you'd  better  put  'er. " 

Sam  hastened  to  explain  that  he  and  his  comrade  had 
come  there  fishing,  that  their  boat  had  gone  adrift  in  the 
storm,  and  that  all  they  wanted  of  the  island  was  to  rid  it 
of  themselves  ;  now  how  much  would  they  ask  to  set  them 
ashore  at  the  mouth  of  Little  Otter  ? 

"  Wal-ah, "  said  the  self-constituted  mouthpiece  of  the 
three,  "  we  come  here  a-fishin'  tew,  got  aout  o'  worms, 
an'  come  ashore  tu  dig  some  here,  "  indicating  the  pit  with 
a  sweep  of  his  aim.  "We  allus  carry  tools  for  diggin' 
worms,"  with  another  sweep  in  the  direction  of  the  spade 
and  crowbar.  "  A  man  orter  be  prepared  for  everything 
when  he  goes  a  fishin',  but  the'  hain't  many  'at  knows 
'nough  tu  be.  Naow,  'f  you'd  ha'  ben  prepared  ah,  you 
wouldn't  ha'  got  ketched  so." 

"  Wai,  no,"  said  Sam.  "  If  we'd  ha'  fetched  lumber 
an'  tools  to  build  another  boat,  we'd  ha'  ben  all  right, 
but  seein'  'at  we  didn't  think  on't,  haow  much  be  you 
goin'  tu  charge  tu  take  us  over  t'  the  crik  ?  We  got  some 
fellers  over  there  'at  's  expectin'  of  us,  an'  we're  willin' 
tu  pay  you  reasonable  tu  take  us  over." 

"  What  be  you  a-duin'  on  here  so  many  on  ye- ah  ?  I 
don't  like  the  looks  on't.  Don't  ye  tech  nothin'  on  this 
islan',  not  a  cedar  pos'  nor  not  one  stun-ah,  nor  dig 
none,  for  we  cal'late  tu  pastur'  sheep  on't,  an'  we  don't 
want  it  all  tore  up-ah.  It's  all  aour'n  tu  hev  an'  tu  hoi', 
we,  aour  heirs  an'  'signs  forever,  et  cetery  un'  soforth-ah.  " 

Sam  reasserted  that  he  and  his  friend  coveted  nothing 


192  SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS. 

that  the  island  contained  and  repeated  his  query  as  to  the 
sum  demanded  for  taking  Pelatiah  and  himself  away  from 
it,  to  which  John  did  not  at  once  reply,  but  continued  to 
ask  questions,  for  his  inquisitiveness  was  as  craving  as  his 
acquisitiveness.  "  Where  du  ye  live  when  you're  't  hum  ? 
I  don't  remember  seein'  ye  afore  tu  taown  meetin',  nor 
trainin',  an'  I  don't  b'lieve  you  b'long  in  Lakefield  ah. 
You've  got  a  kinder  furrin  aspeck,  so  to  speak-ah.  Oh, 
you  live  in  Danvis,  du  ye,  an'  come  a-fishin',  hey  ?  Come 
to  think  on't  this  young  man  does  look  kinder  familler, 
an'  I  b'lieve  I  see  him  a-sloshin'  raound  arter  pickril  up  t' 
the  East  Slang  las'  spring.  Wan't  ye  ?  Say-ah  ?" 

Pelatiah  nodded  an  affirmative. 

"  Wai,"  he  continued,  while  he  meditatively  pawed  the 
earth  with  his  big  boot,  "  it'll  hender  us  consid'able,  but 
we  wanter  be  'commerdatin',  an'  seein'  it's  you,  we'll 
take  ye  over  fur,  le'  me  see,  wal,  tew  dollars  in  money, 
seein'  it's  you-ah. "  He  announced  his  terms  as  if  a  sud 
den  burst  of  generosity  had  overcome  his  better  judgment. 

"Seein'  it's  us,"  said  Sam,  with  calm  indignation, 
"  we'll  stay  here  till  the  lake  freezes  over  an'  Tophet  teu, 
'fore  we'll  pay  you  tew  dollars  for  a  half  hour's  rowin'  !" 
and  without  further  words  he  and  Pelatiah  turned  away. 

They  had  gone  some  distance  and  Pelatiah  was  suggest 
ing  that  they  should  take  the  boat  without  leave,  or,  as  he 
put  it,  "  kinder  borrer  it  for  a  spell,"  and  make  their 
escape,  and  then,  towing  it  back  with  their  own,  restore  it 
to  the  owners  ;  when  they  heard  some  one  hastily  follow 
ing  them  in  a  clumsy  attempt  to  do  so  stealthily.  Look 
ing  back  they  saw  Jethro  struggling  through  the  under 
growth,  his  arms  at  full  swing  where  there  was  space  for  them. 

"  Say-ah  !    Hoi'  on-ah  !"    he  half-grunted,   half-whis- 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  193 

pered,  and  coming  up  to  them,  continued  in  the  same 
tone,  "  I'll  take  ye  over  for  seventy-five  cents  in  money- 
ah,  'f  you'll  give  it  tu  me  right  in  my  own  fist.  Will  ye, 
say -ah  ?" 

"  I'll  give  ye  fifty  cents,"  said  Sam,  "  an'  pay  ye  soon 
as  you  start." 

"  Wai,  gol  dum  it,  fifty  cents,  then.  The  ol'  capt'in 
wouldn't  gi'  me  a  cent  'f  he'd  got  tew  dollars.  You  shy 
raound  tu  the  boat  in  the  cove  on  the  north  side,  an'  I'll 
come  in  less  'n  no  time.  Naow,  don't  ye  let  'em  see  ye, 
an'  I'll  fix  it  slicker  'n  goose  grease."  And  he  retreated 
while  Sam  and  Pelatiah,  gathering  up  their  tackle  and  fish 
silently,  made  a  wide  detour  and  gained  the  rendezvous. 
As  silently  they  got  on  board  the  scow  of  the  money-dig 
gers  and,  ready  to  shove  it  off  if  discovered  by  the  two 
elder  brothers,  awaited  the  coming  of  the  younger.  Him 
they  heard  saying  loudly,  "  I  guess  'at  I'd  better  go  an' 
see  'f  them  critters  don't  hook  the  scaow, "  and  then  come 
threshing  his  way  through  the  brush  to  them.  He  clat 
tered  over  the  stony  beach,  shoved  the  boat  off,  floundered 
on  board,  took  the  oars,  and  after  a  few  back  strokes  which 
sent  the  craft  well  away  from  the  shore,  addressed  his 
brothers  in  a  tone  which  was  not  intended  to  reach  them, 
"  There,  consarn  ye  !" 

But  their  suspicions  had  been  in  some  way  aroused,  and 
they  came  hammering  down  to  the  shore  in  hot  haste  while 
Sam  was  handing  over  a  Spanish  half  dollar  to  the  exul 
tant  Jethro. 

"Come  back  here,  you  old  heap,  you,"  shouted  the 
irate  mainstay  of  his  family,  as  he  stooped  and  picked 
up  a  stone  so  big  that  his  big  hand  could  hardly  grasp  it ; 
"  Come  back  here  or  I'll — "  Jethro  jeered  at  him  a  de- 


194  -SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

risive  guffaw,  and  the  missile  was  thrown  at  the  retreating 
boat  with  a  cast  strong  enough  to  reach  it,  but  it  fell  to 
one  side  and  only  splashed  the  occupants.  A  few  more 
strokes  took  them  beyond  the  reach  of  anything  more 
harmful  than  angry  words,  which  John  and  Job  continued 
to  hurl  at  them  as,  with  Sam  at  the  steering  paddle,  they 
swept  around  the  west  point  of  the  island  and  headed  tow 
ard  the  mouth  of  Little  Otter,  denned  by  the  light  green 
of  its  willowy  gateway. 

Jethro's  brothers  followed  the  shore,  keeping  the  boat 
in  sight  and  continually  pouring  after  it  a  volley  of  threats, 
opprobrious  names,  and  words  that  came  as  near  curses  as 
church  members  might  venture  to  use. 

"  You'd  better  save  your  breath  and  keep  your  temper,  " 
Sam  advised,  "an'  go  tu  diggin'  your  worms.  An' 
when  you  git  tu  diggin'  don't  ye  speak.  'F  you  du  they'll 
move,  an'  you  won't  git  'em." 

This  hint  that  their  secret  was  known  was  enough  to 
silence  them  without  the  threat  thrown  after  it  by  Jethro, 
whose  patience  was  becoming  exhausted.  "  'F  you  don't 
shet  up  and  stop  yer  sass, "  he  shouted,  resting  on  his 
oars,  "  I'll  go  right  stret  an'  tell  Annernius  the  hull  o' — 
you  know  what,  dum  ye.  So,  there  naow-ah  !" 

Then  the  island  became  so  quiet  that  a  party  of  crows 
faring  across  the  bay  ventured  to  alight  there,  while  Jethro, 
whose  strength  was  as  ox-like  as  his  motions,  sent  the  scow 
surging  onward  with  strong,  slow  strokes. 

When  with  a  long  swash,  like  a  restful  sigh,  she  came 
to  the  landing,  Solon  and  Joseph  were  there  to  welcome 
their  friends,  undemonstratively,  but  heartily,  and  to  com 
fort  them  with  that  balm  which  we  are  ever  ready  to  give 
but  never  to  receive — "  I  told  you  so. " 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  195 

The  day  was  now  too  far  spent  for  Pelatiah  to  get  back 
to  his  evening  chores,  so  he  was  easily  persuaded  to  wait 
for  the  supper  for  which  some  hours  of  Crusoe  liie  had 
given  him  a  sharp  appetite.  Jelhro  was  hospitably  invited 
to  remain  and  partake  of  it,  and  was  nothing  loath,  improv 
ing  the  opportunity  as  one  to  whom  such  generous  fare 
seldom  came.  "Dam  'em, "  he  said,  when,  uncomfort 
ably  full  fed,  he  arose  from  the  stone  table,  "they'd  be 
madder  yit  'f  they  knowed  haow  much  I'd  bed  t'  eat. 
But  they  dassent  kill  me,  an'  they  can't  lick  me,  so 
there-ah."  With  this  fraternal  comment  and  without  a 
word  of  thanks  or  good-by,  he  departed. 

**  Perlite  's  a  pig,"  said  Sam  as  the  sound  of  their 
guest's  departure  changed  from  clumsy  footfalls  to  as 
clumsy  oar- beats.  "  Wai,  I  don't  want  tu  say  nothin' 
agin  my  breed,  but  it's  all  in  the  fam'ly,  here,  an'  I  will 
say  that  of  all  mean  critters  a  mean  Yankee  is  the  meanest.  " 

While  Sam  was  making  ready  to  transport  Pelatiah  on 
his  homeward  way,  Antoine  was  heard  lustily  hailing  the 
camp  from  the  eastern  shore,  and  Pelatiah  proposed  to 
cross  the  stream  to  that  point  with  Sam  and  make  his  way 
thence  through  the  woods,  thus  saving  his  friend  the  long 
voyage  up  the  creek  and  Slang.  Sam  thought  this  inhos 
pitable  and  a  non-fulfilment  of  his  promise,  but  Pelatiah 
insisted  that  he  had  had  quite  enough  of  boating  for  one 
day,  and  would  much  rather  feel  the  solid  earth  under  his 
feet.  So  he  was  landed  where  Antoine  was  waiting  with  a 
load  of  Canadian  news  that  he  at  once  began  to  unburden 
himself  of. 

Breaking  loose  from  the  thread  of  a  story  just  begun, 
Pelatiah  went  his  way  into  the  gathering  twilight  of  the 
.woods. 


IX. 

RECONCILIATION. 

PELATIAH  had  not  been  brought  up  in  the  woods  to  be 
scared  by  owls,  as  he  had  more  than  once  assured  himself 
as  he  stumbled  along  the  darkening  wood  road,  half- 
carrying,  half-trailing  his  big  pickerel  and  bass,  but  he 
fancied  that  their  hollow  hoots  had  never  sounded  so  like 
derisive  laughter,  *'  Ho  !  ho  i  ho  !  Ho  !  ho  ! — ho  ! 
ho!"  repeated  by  one  another  till  the  echoes  joined  in 
the  dolorous  mirth.  A  whippoorwill,  far  away  on  the 
border  of  the  forest,  was  not  insisting  on  the  summary 
chastisement  of  poor  Will,  but  repeating  this  new  culprit's 
name  with  sharp  reproachful  reiteration,  "  Pel-a-tier, 
Pel-a-tier,  Pel-a-tier!"  The  trill  of  a  toad  rang  in  his 
ears  like  a  long-drawn  jeer,  and  the  bellowing  of  the  bull 
frogs  along  the  Slang  was  shaped  by  his  fancy  into  solemn 
words  of  rebuke,  advice,  and  warning,  "  Didn't  go  hum  ! 
No,  no  !  Go  hum  !  Go  hum  !  Don't  du  it  agin,  agin, 
never  agin  !"  Not  a  word  of  comfort  for  the  poor  fellow 
among  all  these  voices  of  -the  night,  that  followed  him  out 
of  the  gloom  of  the  woods,  and,  looking  up  to  the  sky,  he 
saw  the  stars  blinking  at  him  with  unpitying  eyes. 

Shellhouse  Mountain,  which  but  yesterday  he  had  de 
spised  as  a  hillock  that  would  be  but  a  pimple  on  the  face 
of  old  Tater  Hill,  now  uplifted  on  a  vague  foundation  of 
shadows  and  asserting  itself  as  a  bound  of  the  visible 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  197 

world,  stood  before  him  and  frowned  upon  him  like  a 
dark,  scowling  brow.  The  lights  that  dotted  the  highway 
went  out  one  by  one,  as  the  farm  folks  went  to  bed  but  a 
little  later  than  their  poultry.  The  living  world  was  forget 
ting  him,  or  cared  nothing  for  him,  the  good-for-nothing 
fellow  who  had  broken  his  word,  and  Bose  was  barking 
as  if  he  scented  a  stranger.  Yet  it  heartened  him  a  little 
when,  prompted  by  his  faint  shadow,  he  looked  over  his 
right  shoulder  and  saw  the  thin  crescent  of  the  new  moon. 
In  confirmation  of  this  lucky  sign,  he  presently  discovered 
a  light  shining  from  an  upper  window  of  the  big  white 
house,  Lowizy's  window,  he  was  sure,  and,  perhaps  too 
anxious  to  sleep,  she  was  waiting  for  him.  Yes,  now  he 
saw  her  form,  a  lovely  silhouette  set  in  the  frame  of  the 
casement.  She  was  looking  for  him,  and  he  was  only 
restrained  from  calling  to  her  for  fear  of  arousing  the 
household.  He  would  have  ventured  to  whistle  just  once 
if  his  tremulous  lips  had  not  refused  to  pucker.  Then 
the  silhouette  faded  to  a  shadow  and  the  light  was  put 
out.  As  he  entered  the  door-yard  Bose  ceased  barking, 
and  came  whining  and  panting  to  welcome  him,  and 
assure  him  that  he  had,  at  least,  one  friend  there,  and 
who,  following  close  at  his  heels,  superintended  the  hang 
ing  of  the  precious  fish  in  the  cool,  safe  corner  of  the 
woodshed.  In  those  happy  times  when  tramps  were  un 
known,  farmhouse  doors  were  never  fastened  at  night,  and 
in  summer  were  often  left  open,  as  Friend  Bartlett's 
kitchen  door  was  now.  So  pulling  off  his  boots  at  the 
threshold,  Pelatiah  silently  went  in  and  made  his  way  to 
his  bed  in  the  kitchen  chamber. 

The  blithe  chorus  of  the  robins  had  not  long  been  ring 
ing  in  the  dewy    freshness  of    the  early  morning,    when 


198  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

Pelatiah  was  astir  an  hour  before  any  other  member  of  the 
family.  First  he  cleaned  the  fish  so  nicely  that  Antoine 
could  have  found  no  fault,  and  then  he  drove  up  the  cows 
from  the  night  pasture.  He  was  milking  his  second  cow 
when  Friend  Bartlett  appeared  with  his  pail  and  stool,  and 
he  was  glad  lo  see  no  shadow  of  displeasure  on  his  em 
ployer's  kindly  face,  to  detect  no  tone  of  reproof  in  his 
cheery  voice  when  he  addressed  him. 

"Well,  Peltier,  thee  didn't  get  back  quite  so  airly  as 
thee  expected,  did  thee?  I  didn't  hardly  think  thee 
would,  for  when  I  was  a  boy  an'  uster  go  a-fishin',  if  they 
bit,  I  hated  ter  go  off  an'  leave  'em,  an'  if  they  didn't 
bite,  I  wanted  ter  wait  till  they  did. " 

"Oh,  I'm  awf'l  sorry,  Mr.  Bartlett,  an'  shameder'n  I 
c'n  live,  but  I  couldn't  help  it  !"  and  he  went  on  explain 
ing  his  mischance,  forgetting  to  milk  old  Spot  till  she 
thought  he  had  done  with  her  and  moved  on.  When  he 
went  to  the  cheese-room  with  two  filled  pails,  by  some 
lucky  chance,  Lowizy  was  there,  blushing  like  a  June  rose 
and  never  handsomer  than  now. 

"  O,  Peltier!"  she  cried,  coming  toward  him,  radiant 
with  a  pleasure  that  surely  could  not  be  feigned,  and  so 
shone  upon  him  that  the  last  icy  corner  of  his  heart  melted 
at  once.  "O,  Peltier!  I'm  dreffle  glad  ter  see  ye!  I 
was  afeared  'at  you  was  draownded  an'  I  never  slep'  one 
wink  all  night  a-thinkin'  on  't  !" 

"  Would  you  ha'  cared  'f  I  was  draownded,  Lowizy?" 
he  asked,  trembling  so  that  his  unsteady  hands  poured 
half  the  milk  outside  the  strainer  and  a  little  on  the 
floor. 

"  Don't  ye  slop  !"  she  said,  sharply,  and  then  in  a  ten 
derer  tone,  "Don't  ye  think  I  would  ?  But  you  never 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  199 

thought  o'  me  onct  a-worryin'  while  you  was  hevin'  high 
jinks  wi'  your  frien's  !" 

"  I  swan  tu  man  !"  swore  Pelatiah,  as  he  set  down  his 
last-emptied  pail,  "the'  wa'n't  a  minute  'at  I  wa'n't 
a  thinkin'  'baout  you  while  I  was  a-fishin',  an'  when  we 
was  hove  asvay  on  a  deserlate  islan',  an'  a-wishin'  'at  I 
hedn't  ben  cross  an'  'at  I'd  filled  the  wash  biler  for  ye. 
O,  Lowizy,  I  was  mean,  an'  I'm  sorry,  an'  I  won't  never 
du  so  agin,  an'  I  wish't  you  c'ld  forgive  me,  but  I  don't 
s'pose  you  ever  can." 

She  could  not  withhold  forgiveness  so  humbly  asked. 
She  rushed  to  him  with  upturned  face  and  put  her  arms 
astride  his  neck,  one  cream-bedaubed  hand  holding  the 
dripping  skimmer,  the  other  the  half  filled  basin,  and  as 
the  tins  clashed  behind  his  head  he  held  her  in  his  arms 
and  kissed  her. 

"  Peltier  !  Hey,  Peltier  !  Bring  back  them  pails  !" 
Friend  Bartlett  shouted  from  the  covvyard  gate. 

As  the  heavenward-soaring  lark,  pierced  by  the  cruel 
shot  of  the  gunner,  falls  fluttering  down  to  earth,  so  at 
Friend  Bartlett' s  impatient  call  Pelatiah  dropped  from  the 
rose-tinted  clouds  whereunto  in  delicious  affright  he  had 
been  upborne,  and  went  stumbling  through  the  dooryard 
knot-grass,  while  a  still,  small  voice  repeated  Sam's  words, 
"They'll  fool  a  feller  agin  an'  agin/'  But  his  heart 
whispered  that  this  could  not  be  fooling,  and  then,  as  he 
sat  down  to  his  cow,  sang  inwardly  to  him  this  sweet  as 
surance,  while  the  dancing  streams  of  milk  kept  rhythmic 
time  to  the  song  that  no  one  else  in  all  the  wide  world 
could  hear. 

At  breakfast,  Rebecca  Bartlett' s  placid  face  beamed 
kindly  upon  him  as  she  said  :  "  Thank  thee,  for  the  nice 


200  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

mess  o'  fish  thee  brought,  Peltier,  but  I'm  sorry  thee  had 
such  a  tryin'  time.  We  see  it  stormin'  on  the  lake  and 
felt  a  good  deal  concerned  about  thee,  ihinkin'  thee  might 
be  out  in  a  boat,  and  more  so  when  thee  didn't  come 
back,  for  we  knew  thee  would  if  thee  could." 

The  gloom  of  night  was  gone,  its  dolorous  voices 
hushed.  Sunlight  flooded  the  earth,  and  the  soft  air  was 
full  of  the  joyous  songs  of  birds.  Could  this  world,  now 
so  full  of  light  and  joy,  and  warm  with  love  and  kindness, 
be  the  same  that  so  lately  frowned  upon  him  ?  He  would 
never  doubt  the  signs  of  the  moon  again,  and  never 
Lowizy. 

When  the  next  Sunday  came,  Pelatiah  again  declined 
to  follow  Rebecca  Bartlett's  suggestion  that  he  should  at 
tend  Friends'  meeting.  Yet  he  heard  something  of  the 
simple  service,  for  he  was  wandering  with  Lowizy  along 
the  western  rocky  slopes  of  Shellhouse,  where,  hidden  by 
the  leafy  screen  of  the  woodside,  they  could  look  forth 
across  the  pasture  to  the  gray  and  brown  shingled  sides  of 
the  old  meetinghouse,  through  whose  open  doors  and 
windows  came  the  voice  of  the  preacher,  whose  spirit  was 
moved  most  audibly.  To-day,  certainly,  the  green  and 
flowery  aisles  of  the  woods  were  pleasanter  than  that  barren 
interior,  and  distance  softened  to  tunefulness  the  doleful 
cadence  of  the  sermon. 

The  "  young-come-ups, "  though  a  week  older,  had 
lost  nothing  of  their  pungent  sweetness.  In  fact  he,  who, 
a  week  ago  had  thought  he  never  could  touch  one  again, 
now  was  sure  they  never  tasted  so  good.  If  at  times  the 
low  song  of  the  pines  seemed  to  voice  solemnly  the  words, 
"  They'll  fool  a  feller  agin  an'  agin,"  he  shut  his  ears  to 
it,  it  was  not  sung  for  him. 


X. 

SEINING. 

THE  night  after  Pelatiah  left  them,  Sam,  Solon,  and 
Joseph  were  not  lulled  but  tired  to  sleep  by  Antoine's  in 
terminable  rehearsal  of  Canadian  news,  in  which  their 
chief  interest  was  that  it  might  come  to  an  end.  It  was 
very  confusing  to  hear  that  "  Ma  brudder-law,  he'll  come 
dead  wid  some  small  poxes,"  and  then,  "  Ma  brudder- 
law,  he'll  goin'  bought  it  farm  in  T'ree  River,"  and  "  Ma 
brudder-law  gone  work  in  mill  in  Mass'chusin, "  "Ma 
brudder-law,  he'll  want  it  ma  fader  an'  mudder  come 
leeve  'long  wid  it  in  Ogdenburg,  where  he'll  go  las'  fall." 
But  when  some  question  was  asked  concerning  the  resurrec 
tion  and  ubiquity  of  this  remarkable  person,  Antoine  cried  : 

"  O  sacre  ton  sac'  !  Ant  you'll  s'pose  Ah'll  gat  more 
as  one  brudder-law.  Ah'll  gat  more  of  it  as  Ah'll  got 
chillens  !"  Poor,  indeed,  would  be  the  Canuck  of  mature 
age  who  had  not  at  least  a  dozen  such  relatives, 

Antoine's  recital  of  the  various  fortunes  of  his  brothers- 
in-law  was  by  no  means  finished  when  sleep  closed  the 
ears  of  his  unwilling  listeners,  and  he  abruptly  ended  the 
first  chapter. 

The  camp  was  hardly  astir  next  morning,  nor  Antoine 
well  out  of  his  nest,  where  incubation  of  long  stories  had 
silently  progressed,  when  he  began  to  cackle  over  the  lives 
and  adventures  of  his  sisters'  husbands  and  his  wife's 


202  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

brothers.  Even  the  long-enduring  patience  of  Joseph  Hill 
could  not  keep  that  kindly  man  from  uttering  a  sound  that 
might  be  taken  either  as  a  groan  or  as  a  grunt  caused  by 
the  exertion  of  stooping  to  light  his  pipe. 

"  I  du  most  wish — I  do'  know,  but  I  du  quite,"  he 
said,  as  he  arose  and  fostered  with  his  fingers  and  atten 
tively  regarded  the  kindling  spark,  "  'at  your  sisters  hedn't 
never  merried  or  your  womern  hedn't  hed  no  brothers,  an' 
then  you  wouldn't  ha'  ben  pestered  a-tellin'  'baout  'em 
nor  we  a-listenin'  !" 

"  It  would  be  conjugal  tu  my  feelin's  if  they  wa'n't 
quite  so  numerical,"  Solon  remarked,  and  when  Antoine, 
quite  unabashed  by  these  hints,  began  to  tell  of  his  fif 
teenth  "  brudder-law,  he'll  gettin'  'long  fus-rate,  he'll  gat 
two  twin,  free  tarn,"  Sam  broke  out  : 

"  Dum  yer  brother-in-laws  !  You'll  starve  us  tu  death 
on  'em.  We  can't  live  on  'em.  Hurry  up  an'  cook  the 
breakfas',  an'  let  them  set  a  spell  !" 

Whereupon  Antoine  fell  into  a  fit  of  sulks  which  silenced 
his  tongue  while  it  increased  the  unnecessary  banging  of 
the  frying-pan  and  the  clattering  of  the  tin  dishes.  But 
these  were  sounds  which  his  companions  had  long  been 
accustomed  to  and  had  learned  to  philosophically  endure. 
Joseph  Hill  remarked  that  "  it  make  him  feel  'sif  he  was 
tu  hum,  an'  hed  tol'  M'ri  'at  she  couldn't  go  tu  see  her 
mother,  er  go  tu  a  fun'al  ten  mild  off. " 

"  Did  you  ever  da'st  tu  ?"  Sam  asked. 

"  Wai,  I  da'st  tu,  but  .1  do'  know's  I  ra'ly  ever  did," 
Joseph  replied  after  due  consideration,  while  he  poked  the 
fire  with  a  stick  that  might  serve  to  relight  his  p:pe  ;  "  but 
if  I  hed,  I  know  th'  'Id  ha'  ben  jes'  sech  a  clatteration, 
the  stove  an'  things  'ould  ha'  ketched  it. " 


SAM  LOVELS   CAMPS.  203 

And  Solon,  as  one  having  had  experience,  assented. 
'*  Yes,  it  is  the  nat'ral  natur  of  most  all  created  creturs  tu 
make  a  audible  noise  someway  when  they're  mad — women, 
Canucks,  babies,  bulls,  and  the  hull  toot  ;  if  they  can't  du 
it  vocabulary,  they'll  hammer  an'  kick  an'  canimmux.  A 
mud  turkle,  naow,  'at  hain't  got  no  visible  voice,  'ill  cuss 
jest  as  wicked,  a-snappin'  his  onspeechless  jaws.  It  seems 
as  'ough  the'  wa'n't  nothin'  denied  the  comfort  o'  cussin', 
somehow. " 

Though  Antoine  vented  his  ill-humor  on  his  utensils, 
no  flavor  of  it  was  imparted  to  the  food  he  prepared,  but 
on  the  contrary  a  quality  that  restored  his  good-nature  be 
fore  the  breakfast  was  half  eaten,  and  its  effect  on  the 
others  was  such-  that  they  would  have  listened  with  pa 
tience,  if  not  absorbed  interest,  to  a  further  account  of  his 
Canadian  relatives  and  friends. 

This  was  to  be  a  busy  day,  for  to-morrow  they  were  to 
break  camp  and  go  at  least  as  far  as  the  Falls  on  their 
homeward  way.  For  their  credit  as  fishermen  and  for  the 
pleasure  of  their  friends  at  home,  they  must  take  with 
them  fish  enough  to  give  each  neighbor  a  mess.  Danvis 
would  expect  every  man  of  them  to  do  his  duty  and  bring 
it— a  pickerel. 

If  the  angle  alone  was  depended  on,  this  expectation 
was  unlikely  to  be  realized,  for  the  moods  of  fish  were  un 
certain.  Solon  and  Joseph  had  not  the  acquired  skill  nor 
the  gilt  of  luck  with  hook  and  line,  and  Sam  and  Antoine 
could  not  fish  for  all  Danvis  nor  the  half  of  it.  Therefore, 
it  was  decided  that  they  should  this  day  put  their  trust  in 
the  greater  certainties  of  the  silver  hook  and  employ  the 
fishermen  who  were  hauling  their  nets  every  day  near  the 
mouth  of  Lewis  Creek.  Then  Sam  hoped  he  might  run 


204  SAM  LOVE  US  CAMPS. 

up  that  stream  and  try  titles  with  some  of  its  abundant 
bass,  as  he  had  more  than  ever  wished  to  do  since  witness 
ing  the  fighting  qualities  of  Pelatiah's  Garden  Island  prize. 

As  he  looked  eastward  from  the  top  of  the  bluff  beyond 
the  broad  creek  and  above  the  wall  of  woods,  the  first  ob 
ject  that  met  his  eye  was  Shellhouse  Mountain,  and  it 
struck  him  that  the  outline  of  its  long  crest,  rising  from 
the  north  end  with  one  short  curve  and  another  longer 
one  to  the  rounded  highest  point,  thence  sloping  away  to 
the  south,  greatly  resembled  a  huge  fish.  Not  far  away  a 
kingfisher  hung  steadfast  for  a  moment  on  vibrant  wings 
above  the  shallows,  then  dropping  like  a  plummet,  arose 
almost  with  the  upbursting  splash  of  his  plunge,  and  pres 
ently  proclaimed  his  good  luck  with  a  metallic  clatter  of 
his  castanets.  A  fishhawk,  cruising  vigilantly  above  the 
channel,  suddenly  swooped  and  tore  from  the  water  a  prize 
so  heavy  that,  in  labored  retreat,  he  barely  gained  the  cover 
of  the  woods  in  time  to  escape  the  swift  onslaught  of  an 
eagle,  lord  paramount  of  all  air,  water,  and  earth  hereabout. 

44  S'posin'  you  tackle  Shellhaouse  naow, "  Sam  said  as 
the  baffled  tyrant  wheeled  sullenly  from  pursuit,  "I  ha' 
no  doubt  you  feel  big  enough  t'  think  it  wouldn't  be 
more'n  your  sheer  if  't  was  a  fish." 

Sam  accepted  these  omens  as  auspicious  of  a  good  day's 
fishing,  verifying  what  he  had  already  felt  in  his  bones, 
and  was  in  haste  to  be  off. 

He  embarked  in  his  canoe,  the  others  in  the  scow. 
Going  out  of  Little  Otter  and  rounding  the  willowy  sand- 
point,  the  two  craft  fared  across  the  bar  toward  the  seining 
ground.  Near  them  on  the  right  curved  the  flat  shore, 
marked  here  by  willows,  farther  on  by  a  pale  of  rushes,  the 
border  of  a  great  marsh  that  was  walled  south  and  east  by 


SAM-  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  205 

the  ancient  forest  on  the  north,  by  the  great  water  maples 
and  button- woods  of  Lewis  Creek,  a  bay  of  rank  marsh 
herbage,  with  islands  of  button-bush  dotting  its  fresh  ver 
dure  with  clumps  of  darker  green.  The  water  was  so 
shallow,  that  oars  and  paddle  often  touched  the  bottom, 
crinkled  with  a  golden  net  knit  by  sunlight  and  the  light 
northern  breeze. 

Such  voyaging  was  much  enjoyed  by  Solon  and  Joseph, 
who  had  a  wholesome  dread  of  deep  water.  As  the  latter 
watched  the  swarms  of  minnows  flashing  their  silvery  sides 
and  attended  by  the  shadows  that  swam  in  a  darker  school 
beneath  them,  slipping  through  the  tangled  meshes  of 
sunshine  threads,  he  said  :  "  Wai,  naow,  I  call  this  a 
sorter  sensible  place  for  ridin'  in  a  boat,  where  you  c'n  see 
what's  a-goin'  on  onderneath  of  you,  an'  if  you  take  a 
notion  tu,  er  git  tired  o'  ridin',  er  your  boat  gits  tu  cuttin' 
up,  you  c'n  jest  git  right  aout  anywheres  an'  go  afoot  an' 
go  off  an'  let  your  ol'  boat  cut  its  carlicues,  or  if 
you're  a  min'  tu,  take  a  holt  o'  the  rope  an'  halter  break  it 
till  it  gits  waywise,  er  lead  it  ashore.  Ef  I  was  a-goin'  ter 
hev  me  a  lake  made  a  puppus,  I  don't  b'lieve  I'd  hev  it 
no  deeper  nowheres  an'  this  is  right  here.  Ye  see,  the' 
couldn't  nob'dy  git  draownded  in  't  'thaout  they  wanted 
tu  bad  'nough  tu  lay  daown,  an'  the'  'Id  be  water  'nough 
fer  fish  'at  wa'n't  tu  big,  an'  'nough  tu  drink,  'thaout  'twas 
better'n  this  is. " 

"  O,  bah  gosh  !  Zhozeff,  what  you  talk  so  foolish?" 
cried  Antoine,  *'  what  kan'  o'  lake  you  s'posed  dat  was  be 
you'll  have  it  ?  De  feesh  be  so  scare  for  see  you,  he  ain't 
bit.  He  cook  hees  back  wid  de  sun  in  de  summer,  in  de 
winter  he  be  freeze  wid  de  ice.  Haow  you'll  s'pose  stim- 
boat  goin'  travelled,  if  de  water  so  thin  he  was  here  ? 


206  SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS. 

Haow  you'll  s'pose  ma  brudder-law  comin'  from  Canada 
in  hees  bateau  nex'  fall  for  git  happle  ?  Hein  ?  He'll 
comin'  'f  he  can  git  ma  nudder  brudder-law  come  long 
of  it.  Ma  fader  hees  toP  me." 

"  O,  wal,  Antwine,  the  fish  'ould  git  tame  arter  a  spell 
an'  when  the'  backs  git  tew  hot  they  c'ld  turn  over,  an' 
they  'Id  keep  good  in  the  ice  an'  be  's  good  's  new  in  the 
spring.  An'  I  hain't  got  no  steamboats  nor  bateaux,  I 
like  tu  know  the  airth  is  under  me  an'  the  water  not  so 
deep  'at  like  'nough  it's  Chiny  water  on  t'other  side.  But 
you  c'n  hev  this  lake  jist  ezackly  as  it  is. " 

"  Yes,  sah  !  jes'  as  he  was,  dis  pooty  good  lake,  Ah  tol' 
you.  An',  seh, "  swelling  with  the  pride  of  proprietor 
ship,  **  ant  you'll  know  de  fus'  man  dat  fan'  dis  lake  was 
Ferrenchman  !  An'  it  gat  hees  name  too-day  !  Cham- 
plain  !  Dat  ant  Yankee  name,  don't  it  ?" 

"  Was  he  a  brother  in-law  o'  yourn  ?"  Sam  asked, 
being  within  short  earshot. 

"  No,  seh,  'cause  he'll  ant,  'cause  he'll  dead  great  many 
while  'go.  But  prob'ly  'f  he'll  leeve  two  free  honded 
year  an'  see  ma  seester  Marie,  he'll  was  be  ;  O,  she'll 
han'somes,  more  han'somes  as  Ursule  !  More  han'somes 
Ah  was. ' ' 

"  The  contower  of  her  complexion  an'  featur's  must  be 
most  superguberous, ' '  Solon  remarked. 

"  What  I'm  a-wonderin'  is,"  said  Sam,  "if  the'  is  any 
body  in  Canady  'at  hain't  your  brother- in  law,  Antwine. 
Seem's  'ough  we'd  hear'd  of  'nough  on  'em  tu  fill  it 
chuck  full,  an1  some  on  'em  has  got  craowded  aout  int' 
the  States." 

"  Wal,  sah,  boy,"  Antoine  answered,  dropping  his  oars 
and  making  a  pretended  computation  on  his  fingers, 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  207 

"Ah'll  b'lieve  dey  was  two,  prob'ly  free.  Dere  was  de 
priest  in  Saint  Cesare  an'  ma  aunt,  an' — Ah'll  freegit  who 
was  tudder  one.  But  prob'ly  you'll  ant  b'lieved  Ah'll 
gat  some  brudder-law  !  You'll  come  to  Canada  'long  to 
me  Ah'll  showed  you,  boy.  " 

"Them  'ere  clams,"  said  Joseph,  still  contemplating 
the  bottom,  "must  be  tumble  happy  creturs.  Never  in 
no  hurry,  never  wantin'  to  go  nowhere,  knowin'  't  they 
couldn't  git  there  'f  they  did.  Tu  hum,  wherever  they  git 
hove  tu,  all  alone  an'  never  gittin'  scolded.  I  do'  know, 
but  it  don't  seem  's  'ough  they  could  cuss,  Solon,  'f  they 
hed  'casion  tu. " 

"You  protrude  your  finger  int'  the'  maouth  an'  see  'f 
they  don't  profane  with  a  audible  feelin'.  The  masculine 
paower  o'  their  jaws  is  astonishin'. " 

"I  wonder  if  the  tarnal  things  is  good  f  eat,"  said 
Joseph,  yet  interested  in  the  unio  with  which  the  sands 
were  populous,  and  everywhere  marked  with  the  tracks  of 
their  slow  and  apparently  purposeless  travel,  "  er  whether 
they  wasn't  made  for  nothin'  only  enjyin'  life." 

"Ah'll  try  for  heat  it,  but  Ah'll  ant  never  heat  it, "  said 
Antoine.  "He'll  tender  lak  jim-mbbit,*  an'  ta'se  rnos' 
so  good.  Ah'll  bile  one  of  it  two  nhour,  then  Ah'll  chaw 
it  two  nhour,  an'  he'll  ant  got  no  difference  Ah  can  feel 
of  it  !  Moosrat  heat  it  an'  tink  dey  can'  be  no  better,  an' 
dey '11  said  sheephead  feesh  heat  it,  but  Ah  do'  know  'f  he 
can  brek  hees  shuck,  me.  He  can  have  it  he'll  want  it. 
Ah'll  ant  quarly  for  heem  wid  it.  Here  we'll  was  l" 

The  scow  swept  prostrate  the  rushes  and  made  a  land 
ing  that  it  might  feel  at  home  in,  the  canoe  was  beached 

*  India-rubber. 


208  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAtfPS. 

alongside  and  the  party  landed.  Before  them  a  long  in 
curved  beach  stretched  away  to  the  north,  ending  at  a 
rocky  point.  The  waves  of  immemorial  years  had  thrown 
up  the  sand  into  a  low  breastwork  that  resisted  now  their 
own  assaults  on  the  marsh  behind  it,  wherein  flourished 
a  rank  growth  of  rushes,  sedges,  and  other  aquatic  plants, 
nourished  by  the  undisturbed  muck  of  their  own  decay. 
So  close  along  the  waterline  that  their  wave-washed  roots 
were  spread  like  a  tangled  net  upon  the  sand  stood  an 
irregular  row  of  great  water  maples  with  tower-like  trunks, 
buttressed,  loop-holed,  mossed,  and  lichened  by  age, 
scarred  by  the  battering  rams  of  ice  that  the  lake  had  hurled 
against  them,  with  tops  wind-torn  and  decaying,  but  yet 
sending  up  new  smooth  trunks  and  abroad  with  youthful 
vigor  a  graceful  ramage  of  branches  and  fresh  leafage  as  if 
they  might  endure  for  a  thousand  years.  They  are  gone, 
now,  and  their  ancient  sites  are  marked  only  by  rotting 
stumps  on  the  barren  unshaded  shore.  A.  meaner  and 
deadlier  foe  than  time,  or  wind,  or  waves  has  sapped  their 
foundations,  and  years  ago  they  were  peddled  out  at  so 
much  a  cord  by  their  avaricious  owner,  who  begrudged 
even  the  sands  the  shadow  of  a  tree. 

There  were  two  gangs  of  seiners  on  the  beach.  The 
three  men  composing  one  gang  were  Canadians,  those  of 
the  other  Sam  at  once  recognized  as  his  unpleasant  Garden 
Island  acquaintances,  who  it  would  seem  had  not  yet 
unearthed  Arnold's  hidden  treasure  or  were  masking  their 
new  opulence  with  this  humble  avocation.  However  it 
might  be,  he  had  no  desire  for  further  intercourse  with 
them,  and  he  and  his  party  at  once  began  negotiations 
with  Antoine's  compatriots. 

Their  chief  was  an  old  fellow  of  large  build,  of  greatest 


SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS.  209 

dimensions  at  the  hips,  tapering  thence  upward  to  his  ears 
and  downward  to  his  bare  feet.  It  was  from  the  interior 
of  this  widest  region,  apparently,  that  his  broken  English 
was  laboriously  upheaved  to  the  suiface  with  intermittent 
guttural  grunts.  His  face  bore  a  grim  expression  of  good 
nature  and  also  a  pock-marked  red  nose  that  much  re 
sembled  in  shape  and  color  an  immense  strawberry.  His 
younger  assistants,  who  were  clearing  the  net  of  sticks, 
weeds,  and  clams,  and  folding  it  on  the  broad  stern  of 
their  scow,  appeared  to  be  his  nephews,  for  they  frequently 
addressed  him  as  One'  Theophile. 

"  Haow  de  du  ?"  Sam  saluted  him. 

"  Ough  !  How  do,"  Uncle  Theophile  grunted  in 
labored  response,  and  then  glibly  gave  in  French  an  order 
to  one  of  his  nephews. 

"  Hevin'  any  luck  tu-day  ?"  Sam  inquired  with  an  as 
sumed  languor  of  interest. 

"  Make,  ough,  one  haul,  ough  ;  gat  dat, "  Uncle  The 
ophile  answered,  pointing  to  a  bushel  basket  half  full  of 
pike- perch  and  pickerel. 

"  Wai,  that'll  du  tol'lable  well, "  Sam  said  after  tilting 
the  basket  till  some  of  the  bottom  fish  were  exposed  and 
critically  examining  the  gaping  mass,  "  haow  much  be 
you  goin'  tu  tax  us  for,  wal,  say  four  haul  ?" 

"Ough,  twanty-fav  cen'  haul,"  Theophile  answered, 
coiling  the  elm-bark  seine  ropes  on  the  beach,  "  fo'  haul, 
ough,  dollar." 

"  Prehaps, "  said  Solon,  "  'at  them  other  angulars  aout 
yunder  hain't  so  pecuniary  in  the'  charges.  Le's  go  an' 
see  them." 

Theophile  comprehended  the  spirit,  if  not  the  matter  of 
the  proposal. 


210  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

"  Hoi'  John,  ov'  dar,  hees  seine,  ough,  gat  more  hoi', 
he  was.  He  ant,  ough,  so  longue  ma  seine,  more  as 
half." 

"  We  do'  want  nuthin'  tu  du  wi'  him,"  said  Sam,  de 
cidedly.  "  He's  the  chap  'at  was  goin'  tu  tax  me  an' 
Peltier  tew  dollars  for  rowin'  on  us  over  from  the  islan'. 
I  druther  not  hev  no  rish  'an  tu  hire  him. " 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Antoine  had  been  silent  so 
long.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  borne  well  his  part  in  an 
incessant  interchange  of  French  gabble  with  Theophile  and 
his  nephews,  who  no  doubt  were  now  informed  of  the 
recent  discovery  of  his  father,  and  to  such  extent  as  the 
time  had  permitted,  of  the  fortunes  of  his  brothers-in-law. 

"  Dese  mans  tol'  me, "  he  said  to  his  companions  at  the 
end  of  a  fresh  outburst  of  jabber  and  gesticulation,  " 'f 
Ah'Il  helped  it,  dey'll  give  us  fo'  haul  for  eighty  cen'." 

"All  right!"  said  Sam,  "go  ahead."  And  the 
nephews,  shoving  off  the  scow,  clambered  on  board,  one 
taking  the  oars,  the  other  tending  the  seine. 

They  headed  toward  what  was  now  an  islet,  though  in 
lowest  water  a  peninsula,  l)ing  parallel  with  and  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  beach,  an  incline  of  smooth  rock  on  this 
side,  on  the  other  a  jagged,  low  escarpment,  nourishing 
above  high-water  line  some  scant  herbage,  a  few  storm- 
beaten  oaks,  and  scrubby  cedars.  Antoine  seemed  to  think 
that  the  service  he  was  to  render  was  that  of  chief  director, 
and  began  to  shout  orders  to  the  young  fellows  in  the  boat, 
and  issue  some  in  a  lower  voice  to  old  Theophile,  and 
though  no  attention  was  paid  to  them,  continued  to  do  so 
with  no  abatement  of  the  idea  that  all  depended  on  him. 

The  boat's  course  was  now  changed  and  began  to  de 
scribe  a  long  curve,  while  the  net  was  slowly  cast  out  astern 


SAM   LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  21 1 

till  the  last  "  tommy-stick"— as  the  staves  that  spread  the 
ends  of  the  seine  were  named — went  overboard  with  a 
louder  splash.  Then  the  scow  headed  for  the  beach,  trail 
ing  out  the  bark  rope  till  she  grounded,  and  the  crew, 
tumbling  out,  began  to  haul  on  it.  Antoine,  now  an 
obedient  assistant,  hauled  with  Theophile  on  the  other 
rope,  while  the  old  man  gave  out  concise  orders. 

*'  Tirer  !  Tirer  !"  or  "  Doucement  !  Douce — ment  ! 
Tirer  pas  $a  vite  !"  as  occasion  required. 

Presently  the  tops  of  the  tommy-sticks  appeared  at  the 
ends  of  the  approaching  curve  of  floats  that  rippled  the 
water  with  a  hundred  wakes,  and  then  as  they  climbed  the 
long  slant  of  the  bottom  and  showed  half  their  length  in 
clined  inward,  one  of  the  nephews  dashed  out  and  gave 
the  stick  at  their  end  its  proper  outward  pitch,  while  An 
toine  in  unquestioning  response  to  Uncle  Theophile's  com 
mand,  waded  out  mid-leg  deep  to  perform  the  same  office 
for  theirs. 

The  water  inside  the  net  was  now  boiling  with  struggling 
fish,  and  the  ropes  were  tossed  with  frequent  splashes  to 
frighten  them  back  within  the  narrowing  barrier,  over 
which  now  and  then  some  desperate  captive  would  leap 
and  regain  freedom.  Sam  thought  that  in  these  instan 
taneous  flashes  of  gleaming  scales  and  glistening  water 
drops  he  recognized  the  forms  of  bass,  and  could  not  help 
feeling  glad  that  such  gallant  fish  had  escaped  ignominious 
capture.  But  even  his  love  of  fair  play  could  not  with 
stand  the  excitement  of  so  good  a  haul,  and  now  that  the 
ends  of  the  net  were  landed,  and  it  was  hauled  steadily  in 
till  the  bellying  bag  stranded  its  writhing  and  gasping  bur 
den,  he  was  as  busy  as  the  others  tossing  out  pike-perch, 
pickerel,  bass,  suckers,  mullet,  perch,  and  sunfish  that 


212  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

glittered  on  the  gray  sand  in  a  great  heap  of  mother-of- 
pearl,  emerald,  silver,  and  gold. 

"  Dah,  seh  !"  said  Antoine,  proudly,  when  the  net  was 
emptied,  "  ant  Ah '11  mek  it  pooty  good  hauls  ?  Ah '11  de 
boy  can  ketch  de  feesh  ev'ree  way  Ah'll  man  to  ketched 
it  !  De  hookanline,  de  spear,  de  nets,  Ah'll  gat  no  differ 
ent  of  it  me  !" 

Though  no  one  else  claimed  the  credit  or  even  a  share 
of  it,  all  were  much  gratified  by  the  successful  haul  except 
the  Canadians  who  had  really  made  it.  They  seemed  to 
feel  no  pride  in  it,  but  rather  to  begrudge  having  given 
their  patrons  so  much  for  their  money,  and  went  sullenly 
about  clearing  and  making  ready  the  net. 

"  What's  the  matter  ails  your  friends,  Antwine?"  Sam 
asked,  noticing  their  sour  looks. 

"  Wai,  seh,  Sam,  Ah  do'  know  'f  prob'ly  it  ant  mad 
'cause  Ah'll  ketched  more  feesh  he  was.  " 

"  Like  'nough  ;  I  never  thought  on't,  though." 

"  But  Ah'll  ant  to  blem  'f  Ah'll  know  more  as  he  was, 
ant  it?  Dat  was  way  Ah'll  was  be  rnek,  'sides  leetly 
maght  Ah'll  was  larn.  " 

A  lumber  wagon,  whose  jolting  course  across  the  fields 
had  for  some  time  been  heard,  now  appeared,  grinding  its 
slow  way  over  the  sand  to  them.  It  was  freighted  with 
half  a  dozen  back- countrymen  eager  for  fish,  who,  seeing 
this  seine  employed,  halted  near  the  treasure-seekers  and 
began  negotiations  with  them.  These  were  presently  seen 
preparing  to  make  a  haul,  while  the  new-comers  unhitched 
their  horses  and  fastened  them  to  the  hinder  end  of  the 
wagon  to  eat  their  bait  of  hay  in  the  shadow  of  the 
maples.  This  acquisition  of  patronage  by  their  rivals 
further  increased  the  ill-humor  of  the  Canadians,  and  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  213 

sight  of  a  big  jug  taken  from  the  wagon  and  passed 
around,  added  bitterness  to  their  feelings. 

"1  tell  ye  what,"  said  Joseph,  thirstily  watching  the 
passage  of  the  social  stoneware,  "  them  ere  fellers  knows 
haow  tu  go  a-fishin'." 

"Shaw!"  said  Sam,  "  nob'dy  never  fished  no  better 
nor  hunted  no  better  for  bein'  full  o'  sperrits.  " 

"But,"  argued  Joseph,  "if  they  don't  hev  no  luck, 
they  c'n  hev  some  fun,  an'  they're  kinder  prepared  to 
stan'  disapp'intment,  seems  's  'ough  they  wus.  An'  jes' 
look  at  that  ere  fsller  'at's  got  a  holt  on't  naow,  the  one 
'at  fetched  you  an'  Peltier  f'm  the  islan',  hain't  he  ?  Sam 
Hill!  won't  he  never  le'  go  on't?  I'll  bate  his  mother 
never  licked  him  for  a-holdin'  his  breath.  I  don't  b'lieve 
she  ever  did,  not  so  much  as  she'd  ortu  anyway.  It's  a 
pity  to  waste  good  sperrits  a  wettin'  seen  mean  sile.  I 
c'n  smell  it  clearn  here  an'  it's  ol'  Medfo'd  !"  he  said, 
sorrowfully,  as  he  sniffed  the  favoring  north  breeze. 

"Oh!  don't  feel  so  bad,  Joseph,"  said  Sam,  "like 
'nough  't  ain't  nothin'  but  water  arter  all  or  mebby  cider.  " 

"  The'  hain't  nob'dy  dum'd  fool  'nough  tu  fetch  water 
tu  the  lake,  I  don't  b'lieve,  an'  if  it's  cider  thet's  better'n 
water,  the  bes'  way  o'  keepin'  apples  the'  is.  But  't  ain't, 
it  smells  julluck  a  mad  bumblebee.  " 

"  An'  it's  wus  'n  a  nest  full  o'  mad  bumblebees  when 
it  gits  top  on  ye,"  said  Sam,  whose  poor  father  had  suf 
fered  much  from  the  touch  of  that  which  biteth  like  a  ser 
pent  and  stingeth  like  an  adder. 

"  Ah'll  bet  you  head  !"  cried  Antoine,  who  had  been 
intently  scrutinizing  the  new  arrival,  "  dat  was  One'  Lasha 
hoi'  Bob  hawse  !  Yes,  seh  !  An'  dat  beeg  feller  was  dat 
long  John  Dark  dat  bought  it  w'en  Ah'll  want  bought  it. 


214  SAM  LOVEU  S   CAMPS, 

Hoorah,  Zhozeff,  le's  we'll  go  visit  dat  hoi'  hawse.  Ah 
do'  know  'f  he'll  ant  give  us  introuduce  of  dat  jawg  prob'ly, 
hein  !" 

"  Wai,  ta'  keer  'at  you  don't  get  tu  well  'quainted. 
An'  naow  you  c'n  go  ahead  an'  git  your  tother  hauls,  an' 
I'll  gwup  this  ere  crik  an'  see  'f  I  c'n  ketch  a  bass.  I'm 
spilin'  for  a  tussle  wi"  one  on  'em." 

"Wai,  naow,  Samwell, "  said  Joseph,  "seems  's  'ough 
you  was  foolish  tu  go  off  an'  leave  sech  fishin'  's  this  for 
the  onsartinty  o'  not  ketchin'  nothin'.  It  don't  seem  's 
'ough  you  c'ld  find  no  better  fun  'n  this. " 

"It's  a  good  'nough  way  tu  get  fish,  but  't  ain't  no 
gre't  fun  fur  me.  The  best  part  o'  fishin'  is  lackin'. 
The'  hain't  no  fair  play  'baout  it,  an'  it  makes  me  feel 
kinder  mean." 

"Wai,  naow,  Samwell,"  said  Joseph,  pondering,  while 
he  searched  for  his  pipe  in  every  pocket  but  the  one  it  was 
in,  "seems  's  'ough  'f  I  was  a  fish,  an'  it  mos'  seems  's 
'ough  I  was  a-drinkin'  nothin'  but  water,  'at  I'd  livser  be 
swep'  up  kinder  easy  in  a  net  wi'  a  hull  lot  for  comp'ny 
in  misery  'an  tu  be  fooled  wi'  a  worm  or  suthin'  wi'  a  hook 
inside  on't,  an'  then  hev  my  jaw  half  tore  off,  julluck  ol' 
Darkter  Wood  pullin'  a  back  tooth." 

"I  wa'n't  considerin'  on't  f'm  the  fish  side,"  said 
Sam,  "  but  fish  does  hev  jes'  much  fun  a-foolin'  us  as  we 
du  them.  Why  I've  seen  an  ol'  Beav'  Medder  traout 
laugh  clean  tu  the  end  of  his  tail  when  he'd  peeled  my 
hook  bare  naked,  an'  I  b'lieve  them  'ere  'Swagos  is  up 
tu  jes'  's  much  fun  's  a  traout  is. " 

"Oh,  wal, "  said  Joseph,  who,  having  found  his  pipe 
and  got  it  between  his  teeth,  was  now  exploring  his  pockets 
with  both  hands  for  his  tobacco,  "  if  you're  only  a-goin' 


SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS.  215 

—where  in  Sam  Hill  is  my  terbarker  ?— goin'  to  give  the 
fish  some  fun,  go  ahead  ;  I  guess  they'll  hev  more'n  you 
will,  but  I  d'  know,  mebby  they  won't  be  there.  They 
never  be  when  I  go  a-fishin'  erless  they  Stan'  off  an'  gawp 
like  a  fif  calf  't  hain't  got  no  te't." 


XL 

SUNGAHNEE-TUK. 

WHILE  his  friends'  attention  was  divided  in  watching  the 
progress  of  their  own  haul  and  that  of  their  neighbors, 
Sam  departed  in  his  canoe,  paddling  up  the  lower  reaches 
of  the  stream,  where  the  dipping  willow-tips  scarcely  bent 
to  or  rippled  the  slow  current,  and  the  reflections  of 
trunks  and  leaves  stood  motionless  on  the  glassy  stream  till 
the  boat's  wake  set  them  a-quiver,  as  its  slanted  bars  of 
golden  light  climbed  rushes,  ferny  shores,  and  gray  tree- 
trunks  and  then  dissolved  in  green  and  gold  among  the 
sunlit  leaves,  or  a  gar-pike,  watching  with  wicked  eyes  the 
advancing  prow,  stirred  them  with  the  slow  ripple  of  his 
sullen  retreat.  Then  a  muskrat  voyaged  from  one  shore 
with  a  freight  of  weeds  trailing  from  his  jaws  and  undulat 
ing  with  his  wake,  then  sank  with  it  to  the  underwater 
doorway  of  his  home  and  left  his  wake  fading  in  slow  pul 
sations  above  him.  A  green  heron,  startled  from  an  over 
hanging  branch,  went  flapping  awkwardly  along  the  nar 
row  lane  of  sky  while  his  distorted  double  flapped  more 
awkwardly  along  the  lane  of  water. 

There  was  no  sign  nor  sight  of  the  outer  world  but  the 
frayed  stripe  of  blue  sky  overhead,  one  glimpse  of  Camel's 
Hump  set  in  darker  blue  against  it,  and,  seen  for  an  instant 
through  a  break  in  the  green  and  gray  wall  of  trees,  Mt. 
Philo's  crown  of  pines  and  shorn  sunlit  slopes. 


SAM  NOVEL'S   CAMPS.  217 

The  solitude  was  very  pleasant  to  this  simple  lover  of 
nature  who  in  certain  moods  was  happiest  when  alone, 
yet  not  alone,  for  he  felt  a  perfect  companionship  with  the 
woods  and  their  inhabitants  close  about  him.  There  were 
other  fishers  than  he  but  for  whose  busier  plying  of  their 
craft  he  might  have  forgotten  why  he  had  come,  so  satis 
fied  was  he  with  the  lazy  voyaging.  A  heron  stood  with 
poised  spear  in  an  outlet  of  the  marsh  waiting  for  luck 
with  an  angler's  patience.  An  alert  mink  slid  from  the 
bank,  cleaving  the  water  with  an  almost  noiseless  plunge 
as  if  he  were  a  brown  arrow  shot  into  it.  Not  so  a  king 
fisher,  who  proclaimed  from  afar  his  coming,  just  swerved 
from  his  jerky  course  for  the  boat,  then  hung  for  a  mo 
ment  in  quivering  poise  and  dashed  down  so  close  that  the 
spray  of  his  noisy  plunge. fell  in  splashing  drops  not  twice 
the  canoe's  length  from  her  prow,  then  flew  to  a  raft 
of  driftwood  and  perching  upon  its  topmost  stick  bragged 
as  loudly  of  his  minnow  as  Antoine  might  of  an  eel. 

Sam  had  passed  one  landing  which  showed  in  its  forked 
rests  for  poles,  brands,  and  ashes  of  fires,  heads  and  scales 
of  fish,  much  use  as  a  fishing  place.  Now  he  came  to  an 
other  where  the  stream  bent  from  north  to  west,  just  above 
a  little  islet,  whose  willows,  great  elms,  water  maples,  and 
one  noble  button-wood  were  bound  in  a  tangled  cordage  of 
grape-vines.  Here  were  the  same  signs  of  frequent  fish 
ing.  An  old  boat  that  had  long  since  made  its  last  fishing 
and  trapping  trips  lay  rotting  at  the  bank,  with  fish  at 
home  under  its  sunken  stern  and  remnants  of  muskrats' 
recent  feasts  on  its  mossy  thwarts.  Landing  here  he  fished 
from  the  shore,  and  having  no  bait  but  worms,  for  a  while 
caught  only  perch.  These  bit  vigorously  enough  to  raise 
high  expectations,  sadly  disappointed  when  the  brief  spurt 


2i8  SAM  LOVEUS   CAMPS. 

of  resistance  was  over  and  the  fish  came  swinging  ashore. 
Bat  when  such  trivial  warfare  ceased  for  a  while  and  there 
came  at  last,  after  a  brief  toying  with  the  bait,  a  downright 
tug  and  then  a  strong  up-stream  sweep  of  the  line  that 
made  it  sing  and  the  cedar  pole  trembled  to  the  shrill  song 
as  it  bent  in  his  grasp,  Sam  felt  assured  that  he  was  con 
tending  with  a  bass  without  the  proof  presently  given. 
The  water  was  smitten  underneath,  shivered  into  crystal 
drops  as  the  gallant  fish  shot  thrice  its  length  above  the 
surface,  raining  crystals  from  every  fin  till  the  circling 
wavelets  of  upburst  and  plunge  met.  Though  Sam's 
weapons  were  of  clumsy  strength,  he  fought  his  antagonist 
fairly  as  he  often  had  large  trout  with  lighter  tackle,  not 
heaving  him  out  overhead  as  boys  do  sunfish,  but  tiring 
him  out  with  the  long,  uncertain  struggle  which,  if  we  are 
to  believe  the  only  testimony  that  we  ever  hear,  is  as  much 
enjoyed  by  the  fish  as  by  the  scientific  angler. 

"There,"  said  he,  when  he  had  gently  lifted  the  ex 
hausted  bass  ashore,  "you  didn't  git  away,  did  ye  ?  It 
mos'  seems  as  if  you'd  orter,  but  I  guess  I'm  glad  you 
didn't.  By  the  gre't  horn  spoon  !  You're  harnsome  as 
a  pictur'  an'  you  fit  like  a  coon  !"  If  there  were  other 
bass  here  they  scorned  such  humble  fare  as  worms,  and 
after  offering  in  vain  the  finest  in  his  box,  Sam  re-em 
barked  and  voyaged  farther  up  stream.  There  was  a 
stronger  current  to  make  way  against,  running  between 
higher  banks,  overhanging  in  a  fringed  network  of  roots 
of  old  trees  that  shaded  them,  elms  with  great  buttressed 
trunks,  water  maples  so  nearly  like  them  in  form  that  it 
needed  a  second  glance  to  assure  one  that  they  were  not 
elms  ;  oaks  that  had  showered  down  mast  to  feed  wood- 
ducks  in  a  hundred  autumns,  clumps  of  basswood,  lusty 


SAM  LOVE  US   CAMPS.  219 

sons  of  the  dead  giant  whose  mouldering  stump  they  stood 
around,  and  here  and  there  towering  button-woods,  shining 
spectre  like  among  the  shadows,  more  like  ghosts  of  other 
departed  giants  of  the  forest  than  like  living  trees. 

Stieam  and  banks  beautified  each  other  with  shadow, 
with  mirrored  greenness  of  leaves,  graceful  bend  of  trunks 
and  limbs,  with  quivering  rebound  of  sunbeams  from  rip 
ples  again  and  again  repeated  till  they  flickered  out  in  the 
translucence  of  pools  or  the  gilded  green  of  leaves.  Every 
reach  disclosed  new  beauty  and  promised  more  beyond 
when  the  glitter  of  the  stream  flashed  forth  from  the  shad 
ows  of  a  bend. 

One  who  sees  it  now  for  the  first  time,  can  hardly  im 
agine  how  beautiful  Sungahneetuk  was  then.  One  who 
saw  it  then  and  now  beholds  its  abomination  of  desola 
tion,  the  shrunken  current  crawling  between  banks  avari 
ciously  shorn  of  all  their  trees,  of  their  last  green  fleece  of 
willows,  worthless  dead,  but  priceless  to  him  who  loves  the 
beauty  that  the  hand  of  God  has  wrought,  can  but  wonder 
why  some  awful  retribution  has  not  fallen  upon  the  spoil 
ers,  nor  can  he  withhold  his  own  feeble  curse,  wishing  that 
he  had  the  power  of  God  to  enforce  it. 

A  railroad  in  Vermont  was  almost  undreamed  of  then, 
and  there  was  no  shadow  of  coming  destruction  brooding 
over  the  peaceful  woods  and  waters,  nor  did  the  thought 
enter  Sam's  mind  to  mar  his  enjoyment  of  the  sylvan 
scene,  that  it  ever  would  be  changed  but  by  growing  older, 
nor  lose  anything  but  by  the  natural  decay  that  in  some 
way  compensates  for  all  it  takes. 

Now  and  then,  where  the  bottom  faded  out  of  sight  in 
a  swirl  of  dull  green  under  tangled  threads  of  sunshine,  he 
invited  the  bass  to  taste  his  worms,  but  they  would  not, 


220  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

though  he  frequently  saw  them  hanging  near  his  bait  on 
waving  fins,  then  moving  away  in  leisurely  disdain. 

Presently  he  descried  on  the  bank  above  him  another 
angler  who  was  just  slipping  a  fine  bass  on  to  the  withe 
that  already  held  a  dozen  or  moie.  When  he  had  again 
tethered  them  in  the  edge  of  the  stream,  he  took  up  his 
pole  and  stole  cautiously  along,  carefully  scanning  the 
water.  Sam  landed  and  followed,  watching  him  in  the 
hope  of  learning  something  from  one  so  successful,  if  he 
were  not  so  by  sheer  luck.  As  Sam  diew  near  the  man 
saluted  him  with  a  nod  given  over  his  shoulder,  showing  a 
face  beaming  with  good  humor,  for  how  could  a  man  who 
had  caught  a  dozen  bass  wear  a  sour  visage  ? 

"I  kinder  wanter  see  haow  you  du  it,"  Sam  said  in 
alow  voice.  "I  never  ketched  but  one  'Swago  in  my 
life." 

The  fisherman  looked  at  him  in  pitying  wonder,  then 
laughed  a  little  and  beckoned  him  nearer.  He  pointed  to 
a  little  basin  scooped  in  the  sandy  bottom  and  cleared  of 
every  large  pebble  an'd  water- logged  weed  and  stick.  A 
bass  hovered  always  near  it  and  sometimes  over  it,  and 
now  charged  furiously  upon  a  perch  that  had  intruded  on 
the  sacred  precincts,  pursued  it  out  of  sight,  and  in  an 
instant  returned.  When  a  sodden  water  weed  drifted  into 
the  precious  basin,  she  seized  it  before  it  could  lodge 
there,  and,  carrying  it  beyond  the  down-stream  rim,  drop 
ped  it  where  it  was  borne  away  by  the  current. 

"That  ere  's  a  bed,"  said  Sam's  new  acquaintance. 
"Naow,  see  here,"  and  sheathing  his  hook  with  an  un- 
looped  worm,  he  dropped  it  quietly  a  little  above  the  bed 
and  let  it  drift  down  on  it.  The  fish  rushed  at  it,  seized 
it,  and  darted  away  with  it,  but  before  she  had  time  to 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  221 

drop  it  the  angler  struck  sharply,  and  almost  in  the  same 
instant  landed  her  on  the  grass  behind  him. 

"  Thet's  the  way  tu  du  it,"  the  fisherman  said,  as  he 
unhooked  the  fish. 

"Wai,  it  does  take  the  rag  off'm  the  bush  for  quick 
work, "  said  Sam  ;  "  but  I  don't  ezackly  git  a  holt  on  't. 
Does  these  here  'Svvagos  live  in  them  places  all  the  time?" 

"Laws  a  massy,  no!  Them's  the  spawnin'  beds, 
where  they  lays  the'  aigs.  Don't  you  see  this  one's  just 
ready  tu  lay  her'n  ?"  and  Sam  now  noticed  that  the  bass 
was  profusely  voiding  spawn  in  her  struggles. 

"  She'd  stick  tu  it  like  teazles  till  they  was  hatched  an' 
a  spell  arter,  an'  not  'low  nothin'  on  't.  Then  they  clear 
aout,  an'  arter  the  middle  o'  July  you  won't  see  a  'Swago 
bass  in  the  crik  till  'long  airly  in  the  fall.  Then  the'  '11 
be  some  little  fellers  not  bigger 'n  rock  bass." 

"Wai,"  said  Sam,  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment,  "I 
allers  thought  it  was  a  pleggid  mean  trick  tu  ketch  traout 
on  the'  beds,  an'  I  guess  this  hain't  no  better. " 

"But  it  ketches  'em,  an'  that's  what  a  feller  wants, " 
argued  hi3  companion.  "Come  along  an'  we'll  find  an 
other  bed,  an'  you  try  it  once,  jest  for  greens." 

"  Wai,  I  do'  know  but  I  will  jest  once  to  see  'f  I  can, " 
and  they  went  slowly  along  the  bank  till  another  bed  and 
its  guardian  were  discovered. 

Sam  did  exactly  as  he  had  seen  his  instructor  do,  and 
soon  was  fist  to  a  good  three-pounder.  This,  however, 
was  not  torn  from  the  water  as  the  other  had  been  — 
though  the  guide  shouted,  "Slat  'er  aout  !  You  got  'er 
hooked  good.  Slat  'er  aout  !" — but  was  vanquished  in  a 
fair  fight  and  then  drawn  gently  to  the  shore.  Sam  un 
hooked  her  tenderly  without  taking  her  from  the  water, 


222  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

then  watched  her  as,  lying  on  her  side,  she  feebly  waved 
her  fins,  then  stood  still  a  moment  as  if  dazed  by  the  re 
covery  of  freedom,  and  then,  as  she  surged  away  and  van 
ished  in  a  flash,  he  addressed  her  : 

"  Good-by,  marm.  Nex'  time  you  see  a  worm  in  your 
nest  you  poke  it  aout  wi'  your  nose. " 

"What  in  thunder  d'd  ye  let 'er  go  for?"  his  com 
panion  demanded  in  a  vexed  tone,  when  his  astonishment 
found  other  expression  than  a  blank  stare. 

"That's  the  way  t'  du  it,"  Sam  answered  quietly;  "  I 
jist  wanted  tu  show  you  hao\v." 

"  Wai,  I  swan  !  you  mus'  be  a  dum'd  fool  !" 

"That's  what  I've  tol'  myself  a  hunderd  times,"  Sam 
replied  rather  sadly,  but  with  good  nature,  "but  I  can't 
help  it,  an'  so  I  hain't  tu  blame  for  it.  Wai,  I  guess 
I'll  be  goin'.  I'm  'bleeged  tu  ye  for  what  you've  showed 
mean'  tol'  me.  Good-by." 

Looking  back  as  he  turned  the  first  bend  he  saw  the 
bass-catcher  still  staring  after  him  in  motionless  amaze 
ment,  but  could  not  hear  him  saying  to  himself,  "Some 
poor  crazy  creetur  'at  orter  be  in  Brattleburrer  !  Nex' 
thing  he'll  be  draowndin'  hisself  !" 

Past  landing,  island  and  quiet  shores  the  canoe  slid 
down  stream  in  greater  solitude  than  it  had  voyaged  up 
ward.  The  kingfisher  had  ceased  his  clatter,  the  full-fed 
mink  fished  no  more,  the  heron  had  flown  to  his  mate  in 
the  tall  pines,  and  the  muskrat  was  asleep  in  his  burrow. 
There  was  a  sluggish  stir  of  life  when  the  turtles  slid  off 
the  logs  with  a  clump  and  an  unctuous  splash,  and  in  the 
lazy  float  of  myriad  insects  drifting  against  the  sunlight 
like  a  veil  of  gauze  in  the  unfelt  wafts — a  suggestion  of 
life  somewhere  in  the  boom  of  a  bittern  far  away  in  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  223 

marshes,  in  bird  songs  sung  in  distant  meadows.  Smooth, 
even  swells  from  the  lake  barred  the  channel  of  the  last 
reach  with  glassy  undulations,  that  slowly  heaved  up  and 
down  the  broken  reflections  of  clouds  and  trees  and  stirred 
the  rushes  with  a  whispering  rustle.  Now  an  azure  band 
of  the  lake  was  disclosed,  and  Garden  Island,  shining 
against  the  shadowed  steeps  of  Split  Rock  Mountain. 
Then  the  talk  and  laughter  of  the  seining  party  was  heard 
faintly,  then  louder  as  he  drew  nearer,  and  presently  Sam 
landed  and  was  with  them. 

The  later  draughts  of  the  net  had  not  been  quite  so  suc 
cessful  as  the  first,  and  this  giving  of  less  for  what  they 
received  had  had  a  happy  effect  on  Uncle  Theophile  and 
his  nephews,and  as  Solon,  Joseph,  and  Antoine  were  quite 
satisfied  with  what  they  had  got  for  their  money,  the  ut 
most  good  humor  prevailed.  Sam  was  derided  for  the 
small  visible  result  of  his  expedition,  but  he  had  brought 
back  much  that  his  companions  could  not  see,  nor  would 
have  cared  for  could  they  see,  wherewith  he  was  too  well 
content  to  mind  their  jeers. 

Dart  and  his  friends  had  good  luck  with  the  money- 
diggers'  seine,  which  was  yet  being  hauled  for  them,  while 
they  took  their  ease  on  a  log  of  driftwood  eating  their  late 
dinner  of  fried  fish. 

"Hello,  Lovel  !  haow  du  you  taller*  these  days?" 
Dait  accosted  Sam,  as  he  sauntered  over  to  their  wagon 
to  have  a  closer  look  at  old  Bob.  "Come  an'  ha'  some 
grub  with  us,  won't  ye  ?  Lots  on  't — sech  as  't  is.  " 

"No,  thank  ye,  I  hain't  no  'casion.  I  jest  wanter  see 
the  oP  hoss  a  minute.  Him  and  his'n  's  ol'  frien's  o' 

*  Tallow. 


224  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

mine.  The  ol'  feller  's  slick  as  an  auter, "  Sam  said,  pat 
ting  the  shining  black  side  of  the  venerable  beast,  who 
gave  him  a  low  whinny  of  recognition. 

"  Wai,  he  hain't  starvin',  an'  I  guess  he  hain't  turrible 
sorry  'at  he  lives  'long  wi'  Dart  stiddy  your  Canuck  over 
there.  Say,  Lovel,  the's  a  jug  of  O-be-joyf'l  under  the 
buff'lo,  pull  it  aout  an'  take  a  snort  ;  I  ess  it  chippers 
yit.  'Tain't  none  o'  Hamner's  hoss  medicine  an'  't 
won't  kill  ye  in  yer  tracks  ;  take  a  holt. " 

"  No,  thank  ye,  I  hain't  dry,"  Sam  said. 

"Hain't?  Wai,  it  allers  makes  me  dry  tu  go  fishin ', 
kinder  sympathizin'  wi'  the  poor  critters  I've  ketched,  I 
s'pose, "  Dart  said  as  he  got  upon  his  feet,  brushing  the 
crumbs  from  his  broad  breast  and  wiping  his  mouth. 
"But  I  don't  go  often.  'F  I  did,  an'  eat  's  many  's  I 
hev  lu-day,  the'  wouldn't  be  no  fish.  If  you  won't  take 
nothin'  solid  nor  wet,  hev  a  little  smoke,"  and  opening  a 
big  blue  paper  of  tobacco,  he  offered  it  to  Sam. 

"Ben  here  a  week  hevin'  fun  alive,  Briggs  an'  mongst 
'em  tells  me.  Wish  't  I'd  knowed  it  afore.  Didn't  know 
ye  wa'n't  t'  hum  till  I  seen  ye,  but  I  hain't  seen  nob'dy 
f'm  your  way  in  a  fortnit, "  Dart  went  on  when  they  had 
lighted  their  pipes  and  seated  themselves  on  the  wagon- 
tongue.  "  Got  fish-hungry  an'  thought  we'd  come  daovvn 
an'  fill  up  'fore  hoein'.  That  'ere's  Putnam  ;  mebby 
you  do'  know  him  wi'  ol'  close  on.  Do'  know  why  he 
didn't  put  on  his  Sunday-go-tu-meetin's  tu  come  fishin', 
but  he's  got  his  thirty-five-dollar  rifle  in  the  waggin,  the 
Lord  knows  what  for,  wropped  up  in  tew  blankets.  Oh, 
say,  hain't  that  'ere  young  Gove  livin'  somewhere  'raound 
here  ?  Thunder  in  the  winter  !  'F  you  didn't  make  the  all- 
firedest  shot  'at  ever  I  see.  Seventy-five  rod  if 't  was  a  foot  ! ' ' 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  225 

"  You  mean  tu  Hamner's  shootin'  match  ?  "  said  Sam, 
trying  to  wear  a  look  of  innocence  ;  ''  I  didn't  shoot  no 
turkey,  it  was  Peltier." 

"Oh,  beeswax!  You  go  tu  grass!"  cried  the  giant, 
giving  Sam  a  gentle  whack  on  the  shoulders  that  nearly 
knocked  him  off  the  wagon-tongue.  "  Don't  ye  s'pose 
I  c'n  tell  the  mark  o'  the  Ol'  Ore  Bad?  Beeswax!" 
Then  he  arose  and  dragged  the  jug  from  its  seclusion. 
"  Come  !  Take  suthin'  ;  I  ben  wantin'  tu  treat  ye  ever 
sence,  for  that  shot  done  me  more  good  'n  a  quart. " 

"  Thank  ye  jest  as  much  as  if  I  drinked  a  quart,  but  I 
don't  never  drink  nothin'." 

"Ye  don't  never?  Wai,  the  least  mite  in  the  world 
won't  hurt  ye.  If  you  live  's  long  's  I  hope  ye  will,  you'll 
git  awf'l  dry,"  said  Dart,  pulling  out  the  corn-cob  stopple 
and  swinging  the  jug  to  his  lips  over  his  arm.  "  An' 
here's  a-hopesin'  'at  you  will.  I  don't  see,"  reseating 
himself  after  tucking  the  jug  in  its  nest,  "  haow  on  airth 
you  c'n  stan'  it  wi'  that  Canuck  o'  your'n.  He  knows  so 
much  he  makes  a  feller  feel  like  a  tarnal  fool.  This  ere 
ol'  puke  'at's  a-haulin'  for  us  knows  more  'n  he  orter. 
Ben  lellin'  me  'tween  hauls  haow  't  he'd  a  spellin'  book 
— bate  he  can't  spell  baker — all  planned  aout,  an'  fust  he 
knowed  aout  come  Webster's,  julluk  what  his'n  was  goin' 
tu  be  !  Then  he  said  to  wait  a  spell  till  the  steamboat 
went  'long  an'  it  'ould  scare  all  the  fish  in  the  lake  in 
here  an'  we'd  get  the  almightydest  haul  !  But  your  Mis 
ter  Antwine  come  over  an'  sot  aout  tu  tell  this  old  dick- 
shinary  more  'baout  fishin'  'an  he'd  ever  dreamed  on,  and 
both  of  'em  got  madder  'n  settin'  hens.  It  was  fun  for 
us,  only  the  bilin'-over  consait  made  us  feel  smaller  'n 
was  coinf  table.  I  du  b'lieve  'at  these  Yankeefied  Ca- 


226  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

nucks  thinks  'at  the  Almighty  has  tu  ask  some  one  on  'em 
every  mornin'  what  He'd  orter  du  that  day.  An'  each 
one  on  'em  thinks  he'll  be  the  nex'  one  ast,  an'  cal'lates 
tu  be  a  leetle  might  ahead  in  tellin'.  Blast  'em  !  I  wish  't 
the'  was  a  wall  'twixt  the  States  an'  Canady  so  high  'at 
nothin'  but  angels  could  fly  over  it  !  Mighty  few  o'  these 
creeturs  we'd  see  then/' 

"  Wai,  Antwine  ain't  no  angel,  do'  know  's  he  ever  will 
be  much  o'  one,"  Sam  admitted,  but  loyal  to  his  com 
rade,  added  in  his  behalf,  "  Arter  all,  I  druther  hev  a 
dozen  sech  Canucks  as  him,  or  that  ol'  Duffy,  'an  tu  hev 
one  sech  Yankee  as  them  'at  's  haulin'  for  you,  jest  as  full 
o'  ign'ance  an'  consait  as  any  Canuck  wi'aont  no  fun  nor 
no  humern  streak  in  'em  but  what  a  hawg's  got.  They 
be  dum'd  hawgs,  they  eat  like  'em  an'  act  like  'em  an' 
I'll  bate  they  got  brussles  on  the'  backs  longer 'n  your 
finger. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  don't  dote  on  'em,"  said  Dart,  "they  ain't 
mine.  I'm  only  usin'  on  'em.  But  we've  got  them  an* 
tew  many  sech  an'  can't  help  it.  But  it  seems  'ough  we 
hedn't  orter  ketch  the  slops  o'  all  creation  as  we  du." 

So  they  drifted  into  talk  concerning  national  affairs  ;  but 
belonging  to  the  same  political  party,  there  was  not  differ 
ence  enough  in  their  views  to  create  an  interesting  warmth. 
In  town  politics,  too,  they  found  each  other  holding  the 
same  opinion,  that  their  last  year's  representative  "hedn't 
ortu  die  a  ye'rlin',"  but  should  be  re-elected  this  year. 
Then  the  seine  came  in,  and  less  important  matters  gave 
way  to  the  excitement  of  this  event. 

There  was  a  heavy  job  of  fish-cleaning  and  packing  to 
be  disposed  of  before  the  morrow's  departure,  and  time 
and  tide  and  Uncle  Tyler  would  wait  for  no  man,  so  Sam 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  227 

and  his  comrades  bade  farewell  to  their  townsmen  and 
voyaged  across  the  bay  to  camp. 

There  on  the  flat  shore,  under  the  willows,  jack-knives 
were  plied  till  the  sands  were  silvered  with  the  incessant 
shower  of  scales  that  only  ceased  falling  when  the  grounded 
star  of  Split  Rock  shed  its  ray  across  the  darkening  lake, 
mingling  its  steadfast  beam  with  the  fading  reflections  of 
the  sky's  afterglow, 


XII. 

BREAKING   CAMP. 

THE  cobwebs  of  mist  on  the  marshes  had  not  caught  a 
sunbeam  when  the  camp  was  astir  next  morning,  for  the 
smoke  of  its  fire  arose  earlier  than  the  sun,  that  had  only 
gilded  the  tree-tops  above  it  when  breakfast  was  ready. 
The  meal  was  eaten  in  unwonted  silence.  There  were  no 
plans  proposed  for  the  day's  sport,  for  there  was  to  be  no 
sport,  and  no  one  attempted  to  joke,  for  though  the  pros 
pect  of  getting  home  was  pleasant  to  men  who  had  seldom 
been  so  long  away  from  it,  there  was  some  heaviness  of 
spirit  attending  the  last  of  these  days  of  care-free  life,  days 
without  beginnings  and  endings  of  chores,  nor  filled  with 
worry  nor  weary  toil,  days  of  hand-to-mouth  living  and 
such  primitive  unthought  of  to-morrow  as  the  heart  of  the 
best-tamed  man  loves  and  yearns  for  when  its  last  drop  of 
old,  wild  blood  awakes  as  it  sometimes  will,  and  tingles 
through  his  civilized  veins.  This  uneliminated  atom  still 
holds  us  to  kinship  with  nature,  and  though  it  may  not  be 
the  best  part  of  us,  without  it  we  should  be  worse  than  we 
are.  He  who  loses  all  love  for  our  common  mother  is, 
indeed,  a  wretched  being,  poorer  than  the  beasts. 

When  breakfast  was  eaten,  the  frying-pan,  kettle,  and  tin 
plates  were  cleaned  as  they  had  not  been  before  since  leav 
ing  the  home  cupboards,  for  they  were  soon  to  undergo 
the  inspection  of  housewifely  eyes,  which  the  glamour  of  a 


SAM  LOVEL' S   CAMPS.  229 

hundred  pickerel  would  not  blind  to  the  imperfections  of 
man's  careless  or  unskilful  scullionry. 

"  I  tell  ye  what,"  said  Joseph  Hill,  as  he  scraped  away 
with  a  clam-shell  at  the  bottom  layer  of  a  week's  accumu 
lation  of  burned  grease,  "  I'm  a-goin'  tu  tell  M'ri  'at  we 
hedn't  got  no  soap,  an'  the  water  here  is  hard,  'nough 
on't  an'  tew  much,  but  it's  hard  an'  won't  take  a  holt  o' 
grease,  no  mor'n  it  does  yer  stomerk. " 

"The  way 'at  oliogernous  grease  conjoles  in  a  dish 
when  it  ketches  it  away  f'm  hum  is  suthin'  beyond  my 
misapprehension,"  said  Solon,  while  he  swabbed  a  plate 
with  a  stick  of  firewood.  "It's  suthin'  'at  nothin'  but 
the  female  mind  o'  womern  c'n  rassle  with.  Consarn  the 
dishes  !  Let's  sink  'em  in  the  crik,  accidental." 

"Then  we'd  ketch  it  wus,"  said  Joseph,  as  he  began 
scouring  his  frying-pan  with  a  stone.  "I  druther  send 
this  an'  stay  myself,  'an  tu  go  hum  wi'eout  it.  M'ri's 
allers  tellin'  how  't  her  gran'ther,  I  don't  know  but  't  was 
her  gran 'mother,  fetched  it  from  C'nnect'cut  an'  cooked 
basswood  leaves  in  't  in  the  scase  year.*  Sam  Hill,  you 
take  it,  grease  an'  sut  an'  all,  an'  leave  me  here  !" 

Antoine,  on  his  knees  scouring  knives  and  forks  by 
thrusting  them  into  the  earth,  said  : 

"  Wai,  Ah  don'  care  for  me,  'cause  you  see,  boy,  Ah '11 
was  be  de  cook  an'  Ah'll  ant  risponsibilitee  for  de  clean, 
hein,  Solem.,  ant  it  ?" 

"Wai,"  said  Sam,  wiping  out  the  kettle  with  a  hand 
ful  of  leaves  and  packing  a  dirty  shirt  and  a  pair  of  socks 
in  it,  "I  hain't  responsible  tu  nob'd'y. " 

*  A  season  when  all  crops  failed,  and  the  early  settlers  of  Ver 
mont  were  reduced  to  pitiable  straits,  was  long  remembered  as 
the  Scarce  year. 


230  SAM  LOVEV.S   CAMPS. 

"But  your  time's  a-comin',  young  man,  an'  you  wanter 
be  gittin'  ready  for  't.  H.  P.  is  the  fust  letters  of  her 
name,  an'  she  hain't  thick  under  the  nail  an'  won' the 
when  the's  a  L.  sot  tu  'em.  You'll  see  !"  said  Joseph, 
and  his  words  had  a  portentous  ring  as  he  delivered  them 
into  the  frying-pan  held  close  before  his  face  while  he 
anxiously  inspected  its  interior.  "  I  r'aly  du  b'lieve  'at  I 
c'n  see  iron,  leastways  I've  got  daown  tu  signs  o'  the  fust 
breakfus.  If  folks  only  hed  sense  'nough  tu  du  the  cook- 
in'  on  sticks  an'  coals  an'  hot  stuns  an'  eat  off'm  chips 
an'  birch  bark,  they  'Id  take  more  comfort  in  livin',  seems 
'ough  they  would.  If  they  didn't  hev  quite  so  much 
present  enj'yment,  they  wouldn't  hev  so  much  dread  o' 
the  futur'.  Anyways,  I  wish  't  this  dum'd  oF  fryin'-pan 
hed  stayed  in  C'nnect'cut  if  M'ri's  gran'ther  an'  gran'- 
m other  'd  hed  tu  eat  the'  browse  raw.  Seems  'ough  I  did, 
most." 

To  Sam  occurred  the  happy  thought  of  taking  the  dishes 
down  to  the  lake  shore.  There,  with  the  abundance  of 
sand  and  water,  the  labor  of  cleansing  went  on  more  satis 
factorily  to  the  men,  but  greatly  to  the  discomfort  of  as 
many  sandpipers.  These  flitted  back  and  forth  past  them 
on  down-curved  wings  or  stood  astilt  in  the  shallow  verge, 
jerking  out  cries  of  alarm  with  every  beat  of  their  wings 
or  tilt  of  their  slender  bodies. 

About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  Sam  looking  up 
stream  from  the  camp,  where  he  was  busy  packing  blankets 
and  outfit  and  more  odds  and  ends  than  he  remembered 
bringing,  descried  a  boat  in  the  farthest  bend.  At  first  it 
seemed  stationary,  with  oars  rising  and  falling  in  purpose 
less  strokes,  like  a  great  waterbug  waving  its  antennae  for 
the  mere  sake  of  motion.  But  it  was  drawing  nearer  ;  the 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  231 

red  flannel  back  of  the  rower's  vest  could  now  be  made 
out,  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  his  straw  hat,  and  the  thump, 
squeak,  and  splash  of  his  oars  could  be  heard,  and  the 
surge  of  the  water  before  the  broad  bow  of  the  scow.  And 
then  forsaking  the  long  curve  of  the  channel  and  striking 
right  across  the  marshy  cape,  that  is  half  water  and  half 
weeds,  it  headed  for  the  mouth  of  the  creek.  Sam  was 
certain  enough  of  the  rower's  identity  to  shout  to  his  com 
rades  that  Uncle  Tyler  was  coming. 

They  went  to  meet  him  at  the  landing,  when  gaping 
with  his  deaf  stare  at  his  course,  though  he  who  is  known 
as  Time  was  steering  for  him,  he  sent  the  scow  ashore  with 
a  final  stroke.  Time's  salutation  shouted  at  the  top  of 
his  voice  was,  ' '  Any  of  you  fellers  got  any  terbarker  fer 
this  ol'  critter  ?  He  begged  the  last  mossel  't  I  hed  an 
hour  ago. " 

Uncle  Tyler  took  his  pipe  from  the  seat  beside  him, 
knocked  the  ashes  out  on  the  gunwale,  and  came  rheu- 
matically  ashore  with  his  left  hand  extended. 

"  Massy  sakes  alive  !  I  sent  up  tu  the  store  for  some 
by  Sargent's  boy,  but  he  forgot  it  !  That  tarnal  boy 
can't  never  remember  nothin',  an'  I'd  orter  knowed  bet 
ter 'n  tu  sent  by  him." 

"I'm  glad  it  wa'n't  you  'at  forgot  for  oncte,"  said 
Joseph,  who  by  a  lucky  chance  had  at  the  first  at 
tempt  hit  upon  the  right  pocket  and  handed  over  his  last 
depleted  paper  of  hong-cut.  Uncle  Tyler  was  soon  com 
forting  himself  with  what  most  mitigated  his  chronic  un- 
happiness,  a  pipeful  of  what  it  pleased  him  to  call  "  bor- 
rered  terbarker." 

11  Naow  hurry  up  an'  be  spry,"  he  said,  "  for  I'd  orter 
be  tu  hum  a-workin'  in  my  gardin." 


232  SAM  LOVEUS   CAMPS. 

Time  explained  that  he  had  come  to  steer  for  Uncle 
Tyler,  and  to  get  Gage's  boat,  which  he  was  willing  to 
steer  up  the  creek,  if  some  one  would  row  it.  As  for  his 
rowing  that  was  out  of  the  question,  for  it  made  him  sweat 
to  row.  Sam  freely  offered  him  the  services  of  Solon  or 
Joseph,  either  of  whom  would  certainly  do  their  share  of 
sweating  at  the  oars. 

"Them  fellers?"  asked  Uncle  Tyler,  who  could  hear 
some  things  much  better  than  he  could  others,  and  now 
glared  balefully  on  his  companions  in  the  previous  voyage 
hither,  "  Massy  sakes  !  They'll  row  ye  int'  the  woods,  or 
cross  lots,  wi'  the'  hawin'  an'  geein'  !  Do'  know  one  eend 
of  a  bwut  f'm  t'other !" 

"  Haow  is  anybody  tu,  special  in  the  case  o'  one  o' 
these  'ere  femaline  boats  which  one  end  's  the  fact  smile 
o'  t'other?"  Solon  demanded,  for  he  would  rather  suffer 
the  pains  of  rowing  than  such  disparagement  of  his  skill 
and  knowledge.  But  Joseph  did  not  resent  it,  and  only 
said,  regretfully  : 

"I'm  'feared  you're  right,  Uncle  Tyler.  We  can't 
row.  We  wantu  awf'l  bad,  but  we  can't;  leastways,  I 
can't  wi'aout  study  in'  on  't  more.  Ha'  some  more  ter- 
barker,  won' t  ye  ?" 

It  has  not  been  told  who  rowed  that  boat  up  the  Little 
River  of  Otters,  nor  whether  it  ever  reached  its  home  port. 

Brother  Foot's  camp- meeting  tent  had  been  taken  down 
and  packed,  and  with  all  their  other  effects  and  the  box  of 
salted  fish  put  on  board  the  scow,  and  they  were  ready  to 
depart ;  but  Sam  had  forgotten  something,  which  obliged 
him  to  revisit  the  site  of  the  camp.  He  was  ashamed  to 
tell  it  was  only  for  a  last  look. 

The  downfall  of  noontide  sunlight  splashed  the  floor  of 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  233 

the  woods  with  gold  around  silhouettes  of  branches,  twigs, 
and  leaves,  bent  over  the  rocks  and  crinkled  along  the  last 
year's  leaves  they  were  laid  upon.  Between  leaves, 
branches,  and  tree- trunks,  were  shown,  in  fantastic  shapes, 
patches  of  sky  and  lake,  and  all  the  sunlit  outer  world. 
Birds  sang  blithely  of  their  happy  life,  and  mingled  with 
their  songs  came  from  far  away  sounds  of  the  life  and  stir 
of  the  world,  and  yet  this  place  seemed  lifeless. 

How  lonesome  and  forsaken  it  was  !  The  carpet  of  old 
brown  leaves  worn  by  frequent  footsteps  down  to  the  black 
mould  of  dead  years,  strewn  with  tobacco  paper,  broken 
pipes,  and  fish-bones,  the  castaway  ridge-pole  of  the  tent 
lying  like  a  fallen  roof-tree  athwart  the  matted  bed  of 
cedar  twigs  whereon  they  had  dreamed  dreams  pleasanter 
than  life,  so  deserted  now  that  a  chipmonk  ventured  to 
explore  it.  It  seemed  to  Sam  almost  like  the  ruins  of  a 
house  wherein  he  had  dwelt  for  years. 

For  old  acquaintance'  sake  he  tried  to  light  his  pipe  in 
the  ashes  of  the  fireplace,  but  the  last  ember  was  dead 
and  only  exhaled  a  faintly  pungent  odor  of  smoke. 

"  But  I'm  comin'  agin  !"  he  said,  and  as  he  hurried 
down  the  steep  footpath,  a  vireo  sang  behind  him  as  if  to 
call  him  back. 


XIII. 

AT   THE   FORGE  VILLAGE. 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  the  wagon  bearing 
the  fishermen  and  their  camping  outfit  made  its  lumber 
ing  entry  into  the  street  of  the  straggling  hamlet  known 
to  all  Danvis  folk  as  The  Village,  when  the  horses  halted 
in  front  of  the  store,  more  in  obedience  to  the  custom  of 
their  lives  than  to  the  long-drawn  persuasive  "  whoa  !" 
that  Joseph  Hill  uttered.  When  they  had  almost  come  to 
a  stand-still,  most  of  the  inhabitants  had  become  aware  of 
the  arrival,  and  hastened  forth  to  welcome  their  townsmen, 
now  safely  returned  from  adventure  in  foreign  parts.  The 
storekeeper,  atilt  on  the  hinder  legs  of  his  chair,  absorbed 
in  the  latest  New  York  paper  but  little  more  than  a  week 
from  the  press,  came  down  with  a  resounding  bump  of 
his  boots  and  the  forelegs  of  the  chair  when,  glancing  over 
the  top  of  his  sheet,  he  saw  who  the  newcomers  were,  and 
descended  to  greet  them,  carefully  folding  and  pocketing 
his  precious  paper  as  he  went  down  the  steps.  His  clerk 
deserted  a  customer,  a  boy  who  was  endeavoring  to  nego 
tiate  the  exchange  of  an  egg  for  a  fish-hook,  and  hurried 
out  to  the  edge  of  the  stoop  to  look  at  the  fishermen  and 
their  fish,  whither  his  customer  followed  him,  and  being  a 
born  angler  as  well  as  a  boy,  could  not  forbear  climbing 
the  wagon  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the  monsters  of  Cham- 
plain.  Observing  him,  Sam  at  once  recognized  a  younger 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  235 

brother  of  the  gentle  craft  and  the  only  son  of  Widow 
Wiggins. 

"Here,  bub,"  he  said,  taking  a  goodly  pickerel  from 
the  box,  "take  a  holt  o'  this  an'  kerry  it  hum  tu  yer 
marm  ;"  and  the  boy  departed  in  a  daze,  so  thankful  for 
the  gift  that  he  forgot  to  utter  his  thanks,  forgot  to  take 
egg  or  fish-hook,  and  forgot  even  his  own  identity  as  he 
ran  homeward  with  eyes  on  nothing  but  the  biggest  fish  he 
had  ever  had  in  hand,  till  he  stubbed  his  bare  toes  on  a 
stone,  got  a  "  stun  biv"  on  his  heel  in  trying  to  recover 
himself,  and  then  went  sprawling  in  the  dusty  road.  But 
his  prize  had  suffered  no  injury  but  a  little  griminess,  and 
he  forebore  even  a  whimper  as  he  limped  home  with  it  al 
most  as  proud  as  if  he  had  caught  it  himself. 

One  and  another  tended  toward  the  centre  of  interest, 
some  sauntering  thither  with  assumed  indifference,  others 
with  no  attempt  to  disguise  their  haste  to  be  first  to  see 
and  hear.  A  brawny,  red-shirted  bloomer,  clean  and  off 
duty  for  the  day,  slowly  detached  himself  from  the  at 
tractive  precincts  of  Hamner's  Hotel  and  strolled  toward 
the  store,  stopping  half-way  up  the  street  to  light  his 
pipe  with  one  of  the  newly  introduced  friction  matches. 
The  little  shoemaker  whose  business  had  increased  since 
Uncle  Lisha's  departure  to  such  a  degree  as  to  seriously 
interfere  with  his  favorite  occupation  of  fishing,  arose 
from  his  bench  at  the  first  glimpse  of  the  returning 
anglers,  spilled  an  almost  finished  boot  off  his  lap,  and 
rushed  forth  bareheaded  to  have  his  heart  torn  in  twain  by 
envy  and  admiration.  Every  boy  of  the  neighborhood  ran 
thither  at  top  speed,  while  every  woman  looking  out  of 
window  or  door  wished  that  she  might  as  decorously  do  so 
rather  than  poorly  content  herself  with  no  nearer  approach 


236  SAM  LOVEL S   CAMPS. 

than  to  her  own  or  her  neighbor's  door  yard  gate.  Two 
or  three  bethought  them  of  some  twopenny  article,  never 
so  much  needed  as  now,  and  making  themselves  seemly 
with  a  hasty  stroke  of  the  hair,  donned  their  log-cabin  sun- 
bonnets  and  clean  aprons  and  hastened  to  the  store.  A 
farmer  riding  along  the  street  in  his  ox-cart  hawed  his  slow 
team  to  the  side  of  the  wagon,  and  clambered  out  to  get 
a  closer  view  of  fish  that  were  almost  as  strange  to  him  as 
the  wonderful  fishes  of  the  sea  whereof  he  had  heard  or 
read.  Indeed  such  an  interest  was  aroused  by  this  arrival 
that  every  one  within  sight  who  might  on  any  pretext 
leave  his  affairs  did  so  and  drew  near,  and  for  a  while  all 
sounds  of  labor  ceased,  except  the  heavy  thud  of  the  forge- 
hammer.  Even  that  seemed  to  slow  and  hush  its  ponderous 
throbbing  for  a  little,  as  if  the  forge,  too,  was  listening  to 
the  stories  of  the  capture  of  the  fish,  drawn  in  laconic  an 
swers  from  Sam,  more  fully  from  Solon  in  words  that  his 
hearers  had  never  found  in  (heir  spelling-books,  and  from 
Antoine  with  an  embellishment  of  facts  and  an  invention 
that  set  his  hearers  agog  and  abashed  his  comrades. 

"  Wai  !  If  these  'ere  men  folks  don't  beat  all  natur'  !" 
said  one  goodwife  to  another,  to  whose  gate  she  had  come 
for  companionship  and  ease  of  mind.  'Jest  a  runnin' 
crazy  arter  some  fellers  'at's  ben  tu  the  lake  a  fish  in'. 
Your  man's  gone  an'  my  man's  gone,  an'  they're  all  gone, 
an'  there's  Sally  Goodwin  a-scootin'  over,  purtendin'  'at 
she's  got  tu  git  some  sallyratus  !  'Mongst  all  them  mm  ! 
Oh,  my  sakes  !" 

"  Hain't  that  'ere  that  Sam  Lovel  ?"  the  other  asked, 
without  relaxing  the  intentnessand  severity  of  her  frown  fixed 
upon  the  wagon  across  the  way.  "I  sh'd  think  he'd  better 
be  tu  hum  with  his  folks  stiddy  loafin'  'raound  here  !" 


SAM  LOVEL' S   CAMPS.  237 

"  Why,  du  you  s'pose  he's  heard  ?  I  don't  b'lieve  he 
has,  for  they  say  'at  he's  a  real  good-hearted  feller,  'f  he 
does  fish  an'  hunt.  You  know  it  was  him  'at  faound  the 
little  Pur'n't'n  gal." 

"  Hmp  !"  snorted  the  other,  "course  he's  heard! 
But  what  does  he  keer  for  anythin'  but  fishin'  an'  huntin'  ? 
It's  my  'pinion  'at  he  lost  that  Pur'n't'n  gal  hisself  a  pup- 
pus  tu  find  her  an'  make  up  with  Huldy,  an'  trie's  others 
'sides  me  'at  thinks  so.  An'  if  she  hain't  ben  through  the 
woods  an'  took  'up  wi'  a  crooked  stick  !  An'  oh,  dear, 
tu  think  'at  poor  Mis  Lovel's  troubles  is  over  !  I  s'pose 
she's  hed  'baout  as  tough  a  time  on  't  as  most  on  us  with 
tew  sech  goo'-for-nothin'  creeters  as  ol'  Tim  Lovel  and 
that  'ere  Sam.  It's  bad  'nough  tu  raise  a  body's  own 
child' un,  'lhaout  takin'  on  'em  secont  han'." 

"  Wai,"  said  her  neighbor,  "  I  kinder  guess  'at 
S'manthy  kep'  up  hereend  o'  the  row  wi'  'em,  an'  didn't 
make  it  none  tew  pleasant  for  'em.  She  had  a  tongue, 
hung  in  th'  middle  an'  sharp  both  eends.  Why,  'f  there 
hain't  my  man  comin'  wi'  a  fish  !  An'  there's  yourn 
comin'  wi'  one,  tew.  Why,  my  sakes  !  An'  I  ben  hank- 
erin'  for  fish." 

"  Yis,  fish,  tu  be  sure  !  An'  I'll  bet  they  paid  twicte 
what  they  wus  wuth  !  Say,  you,"  addressing  her  hus 
band,  as  he  drew  near  and  proudly  held  forth  a  big  pick 
erel  for  expected  admiration.  "  You  ben  a  payin'  them 
scallywags  more'n  the  price  o'  good  broadside  pork  for 
that  'ere  fish  ?" 

"  No,  sir  !"  her  husband  replied  stoutly,  "  not  a  red 
cent  !  They  gin  it  tu  me  ;  er  Sam  Lovel  did.  They're 
a  givin'  on  'em  away  tu  ev'ybody  'at' 11  take  'em,  an' 
hain't  much  trouble  fin' in'  customers." 


238  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

"  Wai,"  his  wife  admitted,  "  that  hain't  so  bad  's  I  ex 
pected,  but  you  might  ha'  got  more." 

"  Has  he  heared  what's  happened  tu  his  haouse  ?"  the 
other  woman  asked,  when,  after  admiring  the  fish  her  hus 
band  had  brought,  her  thoughts  reverted  to  what  had  been 
uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the  gossips. 

"  My  goodness  gracious  !"  the  good  man  ejaculated, 
and  his  face  grew  blank  with  the  shock  of  suddenly  re 
membered  propriety  and  neglected  opportunity. 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  nob'dy  ever  thought  tu  tell  him  ! 
Here,  'Lizy,  take  a  holt  o'  this  fish,  an'  I'll  go  an'  tell 
him. "  But  when  he  returned  to  the  store  he  saw  that  his 
news  was  forestalled. 

Sam's  face  had  become  decorously  serious,  though 
showing  no  sign  of  grief,  and  he  and  his  companions  were 
silently  making  haste  to  depart.  For  when  the  tide  of 
excitement  had  ebbed  and  almost  every  one  had  borne 
away  his  present  of  fish,  the  storekeeper,  slowly  ascending 
the  steps  and  considering  what  cheapest  return  he  might 
make  for  his  two  great  pike  perch,  bethought  him  of  news 
that  might  cancel  his  obligation.  Pie  was  almost  certain, 
as  he  recalled  the  unconscious  air  of  the  late  comers,  that 
they  had  heard  nothing  remarkable. 

"Oh,  say,  Lovel,"  he  said,  returning  and  putting  one 
hand  on  Sam's  arm,  as  he  reached  over  the  wagon  box, 
"  hev  you  heard  f'm  hum  to  day  ?  Hev  you  met  Tom 
Hamlin  'tween  here  an'  V'gennes  ?" 

"Heard  f'm  hum?  Met  Tom  Hamlin?"  Sam  re 
peated  with  a  puzzled  air.  "  We  hain't  heard  nothin', 
nor  met  nob'dy  but  three  four  forge  teams  ;"  and  then 
anxiously,  "  the'  hain't  nothin'  happened  tu  father,  hes 
the'  ?" 


SAM  LOVEL'S  CAMPS.  239 

"  Wai,"  saidClapham,  considering,  "  the'  hain't  tu  your 
father,  an'  then,  agin,  the'  hes— not  egzakly  tu  him,  but 
tu  his  wife."  Then  after  a  little  pause,  "  Not  tu  break 
the  sad  news  tew  suddingly,  she  died  and  departed  this 
life  at  twenty  minutes  arter  nine  this  mornin'.  She  come 
daown  here,"  he  continued,  while  Sam  stared  at  him  in 
dumb  amazement,  "yist'd'y  arternoon  in  her  usuil  state 
o'  health  an'  vig'rous  intellects  an'  in  her  own  waggin, 
a  diivin'  her  own  hoss,  an'  arter  purchasin'  some  neces 
sary  articles,  started  humerds  in  c'nsid'able  of  a  hurry, 
bein'  it  was  a  gittin'  towards  night,  an'  abaout  a  half  a  mild 
this  side  o'  your  haouse  she  eyther  run  onter  a  hawg 
a-wallerin'  in  the  rhud  an'  upsot,  or  the  hoss  got  skeered 
of  the  hawg  suddingly  uprisin'  an'  a  woof  !  woofin'  an' 
upsot  the  waggin,  which  it  broke  the  spine  of  her  back  or 
neck,  causin'  instantaneous  death  in  a  few  hours.  When 
the  hoss  come  runnin'  hum  with  the  empty  waggin,  your 
father  went  in  sarch  of  her  an'  found  her  layin'  unconscious 
with  a  paound  o'  my  best  young  hyson  an'  five  paound 
o'  white  sugar  scattered  an'  spilt  promiscous  in  the  rhud, 
all  completely  spilte,  sir.  It's  a  turrible  thing  for  your 
father,  sir.  He  sent  Thomas  Hamlin  off  this  mornin'  tu 
tell  ye  the  sad  news,  an'  it's  sing'lar  't  you  never  met  him. 
He  must  ha'  went  the  turnpike,  an'  you  come  the  shun- 
pike,  or  maybe  you  missed  one  other  in  V'gennes." 

"  It's  more  sing'lar  'at  some  on  ye  didn't  tell  me  fust 
thing,"  Sam  said  with  some  bitterness  ;  "  stiddy  lettin'  me 
stan'  'raound  here  's  'f  nothin'  'd  happened  !  Jozeff,  'f 
you  'n'  Solon  V  'mongst  ye' 11  go  'long  wi'  the  team  'n' 
leave  my  duds  tu  your  haouses,  I'll  put  for  hum  the 
nighest  way.  Give  the  fish  where  you're  a  minter,  only 
leave  a  few  good  ones  tu  Uncle  Amos  Pur'n't'n's.  I'm 


240  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

dreffle  sorry  for  father."     And  he  swiftly  took  the  shortest 
homeward  way. 

His  tall  figure  was  a  speck  against  the  sky  on  the  shorn 
crest  of  a  hill,  when  his  companions,  resuming  their  jour 
ney,  looked  to  see  what  progress  he  had  made. 

"  Goes  's  if  he  was  pintin'  fur  a  runway,"  said  Joseph. 
"  Wai,  I  s'pose  it's  kinder  upsot  Timothy  Lovel  a-losin' 
his  wife  so  onexpected.  Proberbly  it  hes,  if  she  wa'n't 
none  tew  clever  an'  even-tempered.  I  do'  know  but  she 
was  even-tempered,  allus  mad,  an'  I  s'pose  he'd  got 
wonted  tu  her.  I've  knowed  a  sheep  an'  a  hawg  tu  get 
wonted,  runnin'  in  the  same  lot  jest  one  summer,  an'  the 
sheep  'ould  blaat,  an'  the  hawg  'ould  squeel  whence  ever 
they  got  sep'iit. " 

"  Yes,"  Solon  said,  heaving  a  sympathetic  sigh  ;  "  it 
is  sartingly  tough  indeed  tu  be  called  tu  mourn  the  loss 
of  a  secont  pardner,  an'  she  took  away  so  simultaneous  ; 
momentarily  as  it  ware.  Oh,  dear  !  the'  hain't  nothin' 
sartain  about  the  humern  life  o'  man  but  its  onsartinty." 

'  Yas,  sah  !  it  was  pooty  bad  lucky  for  mans  los'  hees 
waf  sometam,"  said  Antoine.  "  But  Ah  dunno  for  Tim- 
aty,  me.  Hees  waf  pooty  hugly  w'en  he  man  to  mos' 
always.  Ah  dunno  'f  he  be  too  sorry.  Naow  Ah  dunno 
'f  Sam  an'  Hudly  ant  be  marree  raght  off  an'  kep  de 
haouse  for  hoi'  man  !  Hein,  boy  ?  Bah  gosh  !  Ant 
dat  de  bes'  way  of  it,  seh  ?" 

Very  likely  the  others  were  thinking  of  the  same  thing, 
but  Joseph  did  riot  word  his  thoughts,  and  Solon,  slowly 
shaking  his  head,  said  : 

"  Not  in  no  onseemless  haste,  they  do'  want  tu. " 


XIV. 

REST. 

SAM  drew  near  his  home  ;  its  outward  discomfort  never 
more  impressing  him  than  now,  as,  coming  across  lots,  he 
approached  the  rear  of  the  house  where  litter  and  make 
shifts  were  most  displayed.  There  was  a  clutter  of  broken 
crockery  and  useless  tinware  pitched  from  the  back  door 
into  the  vigorous  growth  of  weeds  ;  a  cart-wheel  with  half 
its  felloes  gone,  set  upon  a  sagging  post  and  bearing  some 
dishcloths  and  a  couple  of  milk-pails  ;  two  or  three  barrels 
laid  upon  their  sides  with  pales  driven  in  front  served  as 
hen-coops,  wherein  as  many  unhappy  hens  were  in  a  con 
stant  worry  concerning  their  wandering  chicks,  a  worry 
intensified  when  a  cat  prowled  past  toward  the  house  with 
so  much  more  than  ordinary  uncanny  feline  stealth  that 
Sam's  flesh  crept  as  he  watched  her  creeping,  halting, 
listening,  always  intent  on  something  unseen  within  the 
house.  When  he  hurled  half  a  broken  earthen  milk-pan 
at  her,  she  crouched  and  glared  wickedly  at  him  an  instant 
before  she  scurried  away  through  the  weedy  cover. 

One  of  the  half  dozen  neighboring  women  who  had 
come  to  help,  coming  to  the  door  caught  sight  of  him,  and 
crying  out  : 

"  Why  of  all  this  worl'  !  If  here  ain't  Samwill  !"  at 
once  retreated  to  inform  the  others  of  his  arrival. 

He  hastened  toward  the  front  of  the  house  in  search  of  his 


242  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

father,  his  footsteps  brushing  the  rank  mat  of  mallows  that 
had  almost  crowded  out  the  fox  lilies  his  mother  had 
planted.  As  he  was  recalling  the  time  of  year  and  mark 
ing  the  very  spot  where  he  sat  when  he  watched  her  at  her 
toilsome  recreation,  he  caught  sight  of  some  one  among 
the  currant-bushes  just  beyond  the  cherry-trees  and  half- 
tamed  wild  plum-trees  of  the  garden.  A  finer  if  not  a 
keener  sense  than  the  cultivated  instinct  of  the  hunter  in 
formed  him  that  it  was  Huldah,  though  he  could  not  see 
the  face  nor  even  the  outlines  of  the  figure.  He  was  close 
to  her  the  next  moment,  only  the  sprawling  hedge  of  cur 
rant  bushes  between  them,  and  when  she  turned  her 
blushing  face  toward  him  it  expressed  more  gladness  than 
surprise,  for  her  thoughts  were  just  now  so  fixed  upon  him 
that  she  knew  he  could  not  be  far  away.  When  some 
things  had  been  said  that  need  not  be  written,  Huldah, 
picking  at  the  half-grown  stems  of  currants  in  her  pail, 
said,  with  downcast  face,  "  I  don't  s'pose  it  looks  jest 
right  for  me  tu  come  here,  Sam,  but  it  did  seem  's  if  some 
women  folks  ort  tu  come  f'm  aour  haouse,  an'  mother  sot 
ri'  daown  an'  said  'at  she  could  n't  du  no  more'n  come 
tu  the  fun'al,  an'  so  I  come,  an'  I  can't  help  what  folks 
says.  I  hed  tu.  An'  them  women  in  there  hes  ben  tryin' 
tu  joke  me  !  a-jokin'  sech  a  time  !  I  would  n't  stay  with 
'em,  an'  come  aout  tu  pick  some  currants  for  sass.  The' 
hain't  half  growed,  but  the'  hain't  no  rhubub.  I  wisht  I'd 
fetched  some;  we've  got  sights,  but  I  never  thought." 
Then,  starting  suddenly,  "  Why,  you  hain't  seen  you' 
father.  Jes'  tu  think  o'  you  stan'in'  here  talkin'  tu  me  an' 
you  hain't  never  seen  him  yit  !" 

Going  to  the  front  of  the  house,  Sam  found  his  father, 
where  he  was  almost  sure  he  should,  leaning  forlornly  on 


SAM  LOVEL  S   CAMPS.  243 

the  sagging  gate  post,  gazing  abstractedly  at  nothing  when 
not  casting  a  casual  glance  up  or  down  the  load. 

"Wai,  father,  haow  be  ye?"  he  asked,  putting  his 
hand  on  the  old  man's  shoulder. 

"  Why,  Samwil  !"  turning  with  a  little  start,  and  taking 
his  son's  hand,  "  I  wa'n't  'spectin'  on  ye  so  soon.  You 
must  ha'  started  'fore  Tawmus  got  tu  ye  ?  I'm  avvi'l  glad 
you've  come,  for  this  'ere's  knocked  me  gaily  west.  You 
never  liked  her  none  too  well,  I  know,  an'  I  know  't  the' 
wa'n't  no  love  lost,  but  won't  ye  go  in  an'  see  her  ?  She 
looks  turrible  peaceable— more  so'n  I  most  ever  seen  her." 

Sam  could  not  refuse  this  common  mark  of  respect  ex 
pected  of  all  who  came  to  the  house  of  mourning,  and 
followed  his  father  into  the  house,  stopping  on  his  way 
through  the  kitchen  to  greet  the  women  whose  tongues 
had  been  busy  with  the  gossip  which  was  the  chief  com 
pensation  of  their  labors.  When  the  two  men  entered  the 
room  they  suddenly  ceased  conversation,  which  was  always 
carried  on  in  low  tones  and  whispers,  as  if  they  feared  they 
might  awaken  her  who  had  fallen  into  eternal  sleep.  The 
wives  of  Solon  and  Joseph  were  of  the  number,  and  they 
asked  some  questions  concerning  the  welfare  of  their 
husbands. 

Sam  remarked  they  met  him  with  rather  an  air  of  re 
proof.  Whether  they  blamed  him  for  not  being  at  home 
at  the  time  of  the  accident,  or  for  having  inveigled  their 
husbands  from  their  homes,  or  for  having  met  Huldah  in 
the  garden,  he  could  not  guess.  "  Ary  one  's  'nough  tu 
raise  the'  quills,"  he  said  to  himself,  in  resentment  of  their 
coldness.  "  Womern  fashion,  but  the'  's  one  womern  't 
ain't  that  way,"  and  he  went  with  his  father  into  the  mys 
terious  presence. 


244  SAM  LOVEVS   CAMPS. 

When  he  saw  into  what  serenity  the  hand  of  death  had 
moulded  the  face  that  he  had  always  seen  so  fretfully  un- 
restful,  he  marvelled  at  the  undreamed-of  kindly  possibil 
ities  of  the  harsh  features,  and  all  resentment  of  past  injuries 
was  swept  out  of  his  heart.  He  forgave  her  and  wished 
he  might  ask  her  to  forgive  him  for  hard  and  angry  words 
that  now  could  never  be  recalled.  It  came  upon  him  sud 
denly  how  repentance  may  come  too  late  for  the  soul's 
perfect  comfort. 

When  the  father  and  son  came  out  of  the  ' '  square 
room"  some  of  the  women  had  already  gone,  and  two 
were  putting  on  their  bonnets  in  the  first  preparation  for 
departure. 

"  I  b'lieve  the'  hain't  nothin'  more  't  we  c'n  du  naow, 
Mr.  Lovel,"  said  Solon  Briggs's  wife,  as,  holding  her  chin 
aloft,  she  carefully  knotted  the  strings  of  her  log-cabin 
sunbonnet.  "  We've  got  ev'y thing  fixed  up  f  the  watchers. 
Mis  Gove  and  her  man  's  a-goin'  tu  set  up  tu-night,  an' 
we'll  stop  's  we  go  'long  an'  tell  her  where  't  she  c'n  find 
ev'ything  f  the'  luncheon.  There's  the  last  pie  't  poor 
Mis  Lovel  ever  made  onderneath  a  pan  on  the  top  shelf  in 
the  butt'ry.  You  an'  Samwil  'd  orter  eat  a  piece,  each 
on  ye,  an'  the'  's  nut-cakes  't  we  fried  tu-day  —  oh,  dear 
me  suz  !  who  knows  't  they  hain't  the  last  ones  't  we'll 
ever  fry  !  an'  who  knows  which  one  ? — in  a  stun  jar  on 
the  floor.  An'  the'  's  some  o'  them  plums  'at  poor 
Mis  Lovel  put  up—poor  woman,  she'll  never  put  up  no 
more,  an'  the  trees  is  jest  loaded  this  year  !  why  couldn't 
she  ha'  ben  spared  ?  but  like  's  not  they'll  all  blast  'fore 
fall — settin'  by  the  butt'ry  winder.  We'd  stay  an'  git 
supper  f  you  an'  Samwil,  but  we  got  tu  g'  hum,  me  an' 
Mis  Hill  hes,  tu  tend  tu  aour  men.  Jemimer  Bartlett  '11 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  245 

stay  an'  git  it,  an'  like  's  not,"  casting  a  sidelong  glance  at 
Sam,  "  she'll  hev  help  I'm  younger  han's.  Wai,  M'rier, 
we  mus'  be  a-goin',  but  I  guess  't  we'd  orter  go  int'  the 
square  room  a  minute  fust;"  and  they  let  themselves  in, 
opening  the  door  just  wide  enough  to  squeeze  themselves 
through,  "  Cats  does  act  so  !"  Mrs.  Briggs  apologized  in 
a  loud  whisper. 

Presently  they  came  forth,  with  awed  faces,  from  the 
room  whose  solemn  stillness  their  hushed  voices  and  light 
footfalls  had  scarcely  broken,  and  without  many  more 
words  went  their  way. 

"  Such  a  muss  as  the'  '11  be  wi'  them  men's  dirty  clo's 
an'  dirty  dishes  jest  makes  me  sick  tu  think  on  !  Don't 
it  you,  M'rier?"  said  Mrs.  Briggs  to  her  friend  with  a 
tone  more  cheery  than  such  a  prospect  seemed  to  warrant, 
when  they  were  fairly  out  upon  the  highway.  "  It  ort  tu 
be  a  comfort  tu  S'manthy  'at  she  hain't  got  tu  clean  up 
arterSam,  but  tain't  likely  she  realizes.  Oh,  dear,  them 
things  !" 

"  If  Mr.  Hill  's  only  fetched  hum  that  fryin'-pan,  I 
sh'll  be  setisfied,"  Mrs.  Hill  said. 

Friend  Jemima  Bartlett  and  Huldah  got  supper  ready, 
and  the  four  sat  down  to  it,  the  three  world's  people  in 
voluntarily  joining  the  sedate  Friend  in  her  silent  grace 
before  meat.  When  in  almost  equal  silence  the  meal  was 
eaten,  and  the  dishes  washed  and  put  away,  it  was  time 
for  Huldah  to  go  home,  and  so  late  that  Sam  could  not 
but  offer  to  go  with  her.  When  he  came  home,  the  night 
had  deepened  into  all  the  darkness  that  night  can  when  a 
starlit  sky  overarches  the  world,  but  the  world  had  never 
looked  brighter  to  him,  nor  had  his  path  through  it  ever 
lain  so  pleasantly  before  him.  After  going  to  the  barn  to 


246  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

quiet  Drive's  doleful  howling,  he  entered  the  kitchen  and 
found  there  Pelatiah's  father  and  mother,  who  were  to 
"set  up"  to  night,  and  Joel  Bartlett,  who  had  come  to 
settle  the  arrangements  for  the  funeral  and  then  accom 
pany  his  wife  home. 

The  visitors  made  transparent  attempts  at  cheerful  dis 
course,  while  decorously  avoiding  lightness  of  conversa 
tion,  and  discussed  crop  prospects  and  forecast  the  weather 
from  the  moon's  signs  and  the  last  days  of  the  past  month. 
The  Goves  had  many  questions  to  ask  concerning  their 
son's  welfare,  and  listened  with  intense  interest  to  Sam's 
account  of  the  Garden  Island  adventure,  with  a  feeling 
that  they  had  almost  become  famous  as  the  parents  of  a 
new  Crusoe. 

Sam  told  Joel  and  his  wife  something  of  their  lowland 
relatives,  for  whom  they  felt  a  kindly  regard,  but  had  had 
no  unity  with  nor  had  ever  visited  since  the  memorable 
"  separation,"  when  good  Quakers  first  began  to  hate  one 
another  for  difference  of  religious  opinion.  When  the 
"  Uncle  Lisher  clock,"  which  since  the  "  vandew"  had 
stood  in  the  corner  of  the  Lovel  kitchen,  warned  for  nine 
with  a  solemn  clank  of  its  machinery,  the  two  arose  as  if 
moved  at  once  by  the  spirit,  and  made  ready  to  depart,  but 
still  Joel  had  something  on  his  mind,  as  was  shown  by  the 
tighter  pucker  of  his  lips. 

"  Thee  '11  halfter  make  pervision  for  a  haouse-keeper, 
Timerthy,  thee  an'  thy  son,  an'  it's  a-goin'  tu  be  a  trial, 
I  tell  thee  as  it  hes  ben  a  trial  tu  thee  tu  hev  thy  com- 
paniern  took  from  thee.  An'  I  feel  a  consarn  tu  advise 
thee  tu  not  be  hasty.  It's  better  for  thee  an'  thy  son  tu 
endure  privations,  discomforts,  yea,  an'  trf%erlatierns  for 
a  spell  'an  for  thee  tu  make  a  hasty  ch'ice  ol  some,  on- 


SAM  LOVEL' S   CAMPS.  247 

worthy  womern  kind  tu  minister  tu  your  temporal  wants. 
It  has  ben  a  weighty  matter  in  my  mind,  an'  I  wa'n't 
clear  till  I  laid  it  afore  thee. ' ' 

"  I  hev  hed  sech  a  consarn,"  his  wife  said  when  he  had 
done,  "  but  all  this  arternoon  I've  felt  easy  in  my  mind,  for 
it  hes  ben  bore  in  upon  me  that  the'  '11  be  a  way  pervided, 
an'  I'm  clear  that  Samwil  '11  provide  the  way  at  a  proper 
time,"  and  her  quiet  face  beamed  benignantly  on  Sam  for 
a -moment. 

They  went  their  way,  and  Sam  and  his  father  betaking 
themselves  to  bed,  the  watchers  were  left  to  their  vigil. 
The  house  became  silent  but  for  the  ghostly  sounds  that 
always  pervade  old  houses  in  the  night  time,  and  were  now 
so  much  more  awful  and  mysterious  in  this  one  that  Ashbel 
Gove  and  his  wife  felt  more  comfortable  when  their  chairs 
were  drawn  quite  close  together. 

"It's  a  turrible  long  time  sence  me  an'  you  sot  up 
tugether,  Hanner  ;  an'  arter  all  it  don't  seem  so  dreffl 
long  nuther,"  he  whispered,  and  surprised  the  good 
woman  by  taking  her  hand. 

On  the  third  day  after  Mrs.  Level's  death,  the  Lovel 
house  was  filled  with  Danvis  folks  who  met  "  at  ten 
o'clock  at  the  house,"  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  respect  to 
their  deceased  neighbor. 

Timothy  Lovel  was  appalled  at  the  greatness  of  his  loss 
when  he  heard  the  minister  recount  the  virtues  of  his  de 
parted  wife.  Indeed,  no  one  of  the  company  breathed  a 
word  against  her,  if  there  was  none  to  be  said  for  her. 
One  good  soul,  casting  about  for  something  to  say  in 
praise  of  the  dead  without  doing  violence  to  her  own  con 
science,  whispered  to  her  neighbor  : 

**  S'  man  thy  was  'baout  the  spryest  womern  't  ever  I  see  1" 


248  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

Some  of  the  sumacs  that  grew  at  will  in  the  uncared-for 
burying-ground  were  displaced  to  make  room  for  her,  and 
she  was  laid  beside  Sam's  mother  on  the  hillside,  a  pleas 
ant  and  restful  place,  for  all  its  loneliness,  where  longest 
the  birds  sang  and  the  bees  delved  above  the  silent  sleep 
ers,  and  where  latest  the  sunlight  fell  upon  the  peaceful 
graves. 


XV. 

NEW  LIFE  IN  THE  OLD  HOME. 

THE  Lovel  house,  which  for  many  years  had  not  been  a 
very  cheerful  one,  was  now  more  lonesome  than  ever. 
The  two  men,  the  hound  and  the  cat  were  its  sole  inmates 
for  many  weeks,  except  when  a  neighborly  housewife  came 
to  wash,  iron,  and  bake  for  them,  and  Sam  realized  as 
never  before  how  different  were  the  ''  good  lonesome"  of 
a  solitary  camp-fire  and  the  dreariness  of  a  womanless 
hearthstone. 

When  the  good  people  of  Danvis  had  been  for  some 
time  expecting  it,  it  happened  of  a  Sunday  that  the  in 
tended  marriage  of  Samuel  Lovel  and  Huldah  Purington 
was  "  published  "  at  the  town  house,  in  which,  for  lack  of 
a  church,  all  religious  meetings  but  those  of  the  Quakers 
were  held. 

A  week  later  there  was  a  quiet  wedding  at  the  Purington 
homestead.  Not  more  than  twoscore  guests  were  pres 
ent,  mostly  relatives  of  the  bride  and  groom,  but  quite 
enough  the  groom  thought  when  he  stood  up  before  them 
and  'Squire  Bascom.  He  went  bravely  through  the 
ordeal,  though  in  such  trepidation  as  had  never  before 
assailed  him.  He  also  stood  manfully  at  his  post,  while 
a  dozen  young  men  enjoyed  their  first  and  last  opportunity 
of  saluting  his  bride,  and  more  girls  offered  him  their  lips 
than  he  had  ever  kissed  before. 


250  SAM    LOVEL'S    CAMPS. 

"  I  couldn't  never  ha'  went  through  sech  a  job  fur 
nob'dy  but  you,  Huldy,"  he  told  her  at  the  first  chance  of 
a  word  in  private.  "  Never  !  An'  by  the  gret  horn 
spoon,  I  won't  never  agin  fur  nob'dy  !" 

There  was  no  display  of  gifts,  for  there  were  none  but 
the  silver  spoons  given  by  the  bride's  parents,  for  in  those 
days  wedding  guests  were  invited  for  their  presence,  not  for 
their  presents. 

There  were  white  bride's  cake  and  black  groom's  cake, 
and  no  end  of  more  substantial  good  cheer  for  all. 

Later  in  the  evening,  by  some  chance  a  fiddle  and  fiddler 
came  in  conjunction,  and  those  so  disposed  had  an  oppor 
tunity  to  prance  with  some  regard  to  the  time  and  tunes  of 
"  Money  Musk,"  "  Hull's  Victory,"  the  "  Backside  of  Al 
bany,"  and  many  another  tune  that  has  outlived  its  dancers 
of  those  days.  The  inspiring  voice  of  the  fiddle  soon  rid 
Sam  of  his  bashfulness,  and  when  he  was  as  well  rid  of  his 
coat  he  cut  the  pigeon-wing  in  a  fashion  worthy  of  legs  so 
used  to  nimbly  climbing  Danvis  hills,  and  Huldah  tripped 
as  nimbly  with  him. 

Much  pains  had  been  taken  that  an  invitation  should 
reach  Pelatiah  Gove,  and  he  had  taken  no  less  to  be  pres 
ent.  As  he  went  home  from  the  wedding  with  his  mother, 
he  stammered  out  a  confession  that  he  was  engaged  to  a 
"gal  as  harnsome  as  a  pictur' an3  smartern  a  steel-trap, 
an'  her  name  was  Lowizy. ' ' 

"Why,  Peltier!"  cried  the  good  woman,  stopping 
short  and  facing  him  in  almost  breathless  amazement. 
"  Why,  my  sakes  !  You're  tew  young  tu  think  o'  sech  a 
thing  !  Y'r  father  an'  me  was  much  as  ten  year  older' n 
you  be  when  we  was  merried. " 

"Wai,   what  on't?     You    tew    lost   ten   year   o'   good 


SAM   LOVEL'S    CAMPS.  251 

times  'at  you'd  ha'  bed,  an'  we  hain't  a-goin'  tu  be  fools 
'cause  you  was — not  by  a  jugfull,  maw.  " 

Wedding  journeys  were  not  the  fashion  in  Danvis  in 
those  days,  and  that  of  Sam  and  Huldah  was  only  from 
her  father's  house  to  that  of  his,  and  was  quite  uneventful. 
Perhaps  it  was  made  on  foot  across  lots,  or  on  top  of  one 
of  the  lumber- wagon  loads  of  the  bride's  "  settin'  aout," 
of  quilts,  blankets,  and  linen,  all  home-made ;  feather 
beds,  each  with  its  thirty  pounds  of  good  live-geese  feath 
ers  ;  the  big  and  little  wheels  and  the  reel  and  many  other 
articles  that  had  long  been  set  apart  as  Huldah's. 

She  was  duly  installed  as  mistress  of  her  new  home,  and 
now  Timothy  Lovel  could  smoke  his  pipe  in  peace  in  his 
own  kitchen,  or  in  the  square  room  if  he  chose,  and 
Drive  might  take  his  ease  undisturbed  in  the  best  patch  of 
sunlight  that  fell  upon  the  floor. 

A  great  deal  of  the  Purington  thrift,  seemed  to  have  been 
transplanted  with  its  new  mistress  to  the  tumble-down 
place,  which  out-doors  as  well  as  in  began  to  brighten 
into  a  pleasanter  home  than  its  old  inmates  had  known 
for  many  a  year. 

Huldah  was  intently  counting  the  stitches  on  her  needle, 
held  close  to  the  candle  that  faintly  illumined  the  close  of 
the  short  summer  evening.  Sam  had  succeeded  in  the 
discovery  of  a  sheet  of  foolscap  whereon  the  flies  of  more 
than  one  season  had  recorded  their  summer's  sojourn,  and 
he  was  now  rummaging  the  top  shelf  of  the  cupboard  in 
quest  of  a  pen. 

"  The'  hain't  no  pen  in  this  hull  haouse,  I  du  b'lieve, " 
he  acknowledged  at  last,  "but  here's  a  quill,  an'  when 
you  an'  me  went  tu  school  you  was  a  master  hand  at 
makin'  pens,  an'  s'posin'  you  try  agin.  My  knife  's  big 


252  SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS. 

for  a  leetle  ban',  but  the  leetle  blade's  keener  'n  a  brier, 
an'  you  c'n  whittle  aout  suthin'  ;  I  c'n  write  'baout  as  well 
wi'  one  thing  's  another." 

;<  Why,  Sam  Lovel,  I  can't  make  a  pen,"  said  Huldah. 
"  What  be  you  in  sech  a  tew  to  write  ?" 

"I've  put  it  off  tew  long  a' ready,"  he  answered,  "  an' 
naow  I'm  a-goin'  tu  set  ri'  daown  an'  write  a  letter  tu 
Uncle  Lisher  tu  come.  Him  an'  Aunt  Jerushy  c'n  hev 
the  back  bedr'm  as  we  talked,  an'  he  c'n  hev  the  linter 
for  a  shop. ' ' 

"  An'  they'll  be  most  welcom's  fur  's  I  c'n  make  'em," 
said  his  wife,  "  an'  I  shan't  never  take  no  comfort  's  long 
's  I'm  a-thinkin'  o'  them  poor  oP  lunsome  folks  a-dyin'  o' 
humsickness  in  that  hatef'l  West.  We  won't  never  go  there, 
Sam,"  rocking  forward,  with  knitting  dropped  in  her  lap, 
and  putting  both  hands  on  her  husband's  flaxen  poll,  while 
she  looked  straight  into  his  gray  eyes. 

"Not,  never,  Huldy,"  he  answered.  "If  you  was 
with  me  I  d'  know  but  I  c'ld  stan'  it  a  month  or  tew 
aouter  sight  o'  these  maountains,"  as  looking  out  of  the 
window  his  eyes  dwelt  fondly  on  the  western  mountains, 
a  looming  mass  of  blackness  against  the  darkening  sky, 
and  in  whose  jagged  crest  the  evening  star  lingered  for  a 
moment  more  of  shining  ;  "  but  not  for  long,  noways.  A 
Green  Maountain  boy  I  be  an'  a  Green  Maountain  boy 
I'll  die,  an'  take  pride  in't." 

With  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  Huldah  rocked  back  into 
the  fuller  light  of  the  candle,  and  after  some  intent  exam 
ination  of  quill  and  knife  began  a  careful  whittling  of  the 
goose-feather.  While  Sam  watched  the  fashioning  of  the 
pen,  and  in  his  mind  framed  the  words  it  should  write,  he 
pictured  to  himself  a  renewal  in  the  "  lean  to"  of  the  old 


SAM  LOVEL'S   CAMPS.  253 

comradeship  that  had  existed  in  Uncle  Lisha's  shop.  For 
he  was  too  young  to  know  that  old  times  can  never  return 
in  all  their  fulness,  and  that  the  happy,  care-free  days  of 
youth,  once  spent,  are  gone  forever. 


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